Harry Potter and the House of Black
by TheDerpyOverlord
Summary: When Sirius Black arrived at Godric's Hollow, Sirius took Harry Potter from Albus Dumbledore and raised him in the magical world. 10 years later, Harry arrives at Hogwarts as the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, equipped with magical knowledge and a few special abilities. AU. Wizard!Technology. Competent!Ministry. Free!Sirius. Mild Ron Bashing. H/Hr.
1. Chapter 1: A Responsible Godfather

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor do I put any claim whatsoever onto Harry Potter. I am making absolutely no profit on this, and I am not making this to gain anything whatsoever.

**A/N**: This first scene is a recreation of the Attack at Godric's Hollow. Some details and lines of dialogue were excluded or altered.

**A/N 2: **When I was researching things about the Attack at Godric's Hollow, I realized that the Fidelius Charm should still be in effect, and neither Hagrid nor the Muggles should be able to locate the House, because the Secret Keeper (ie. Pettigrew) is still alive, and people that know the secret are still alive (ie. Sirius, Lupin, maybe Dumbledore). As such, I am making Dumbledore go and retrieve Harry.

* * *

**Chapter 1: A Responsible Godfather**

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Run! I'll hold him off-" James Potter was cut off by a brilliant green flash. Lily Potter stumbled into Harry's room, heading directly to the crib where the one year old baby lay, newly awoken and crying from the commotion. Suddenly, the door to the bedroom burst open, and a red-eyed man with pale, chalk-white skin and slitted nostrils stepped into the room, wand in hand.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Lily pleaded.

"Stand aside, you foolish girl… stand aside now." the man commanded.

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead- please… have mercy… have mercy… Not Harry! Not Harry! Please- I'll do anything!"

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" Another blast of green light illuminated the house, and Lily Potter dropped to the ground, dead before she hit the floor. The Dark Lord calmly stepped over the woman's corpse and stared at the baby inside the crib. Voldemort pointed his wand at the child.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

A final blast of emerald green light issued from the wand, rebounding off the baby and striking Voldemort. The Potter Cottage exploded, sending bits and pieces of wood and stone flying through the air. After the dust settled, the young baby named Harry Potter was still crying inside his crib, unharmed.

* * *

Sirius Black was pacing around his room, contemplating his refusal to be the Potters' Secret Keeper. His brilliant plan was to act as a decoy and make Peter Pettigrew the Secret Keeper. No one would suspect it! He regretted not informing his friend, Remus Lupin, about it. He suspected that the werewolf was secretly a spy for Voldemort. Sirius paused. Now that he thought about it, there was a much bigger chance that Peter Pettigrew was Voldemort's spy…

Why _had _he forced the Potters to make Peter the Secret Keeper? Even if Sirius died for the Potters, which he was willing to do, the Potters would be made Secret Keepers and would still be safe. At that point, the Confundus Charm wore off. Remus Lupin wasn't the traitor, Pettigrew was! Sirius hastily grabbed his magical phone and called speed dialed James. No answer. Maybe he was asleep. He tried again. Still no answer. Panicking, he tried a third time, then rushed over to the fireplace to Floo over. The Potters' fireplace was inaccessible. Frantic, Sirius grabbed his wand and Apparated to Godric's Hollow.

Still in his pajamas, Sirius ran down the gravel road toward the Potter Cottage, or what was left of it. A huge portion of the house had been blown off, a gaping hole in the structure clearly visible under the dull moonlight of the waning crescent. Bits and pieces of rubble were scattered all over the yard, the carefully manicured lawn now scorched and caked with dust. Strangely, there was no sign Dark Mark anywhere in the sky, just the bright stars overhead. Hoping for the best, Sirius stepped over the oak threshold, into the house.

A body was lying on the ground in the hallway. It was James, his lifeless eyes staring up at the ceiling. Sobbing, Sirius knelt next to his friend's body. Stricken with grief, Sirius felt as if the world had shattered, like the universe had suddenly ceased to exist. After a while, Sirius heard the dull echo of footsteps approaching. Wiping his tears away, Sirius stood up, wand in hand, ready to face down any Death Eaters that may be approaching, ready to exact his revenge.

"Relax, it's me." said the voice of Albus Dumbledore. He held a small child in his hands.

Sirius tried to speak, but no words came out.

"I-Is that Harry? Wh-what about L-Lily?" Sirius asked, finally managing to ask a coherent sentence.

Dumbledore gave a sad sigh. "Gone. Harry here is the sole survivor. Voldemort must've come here himself, alone. But there is no sign of him. I believe he has become a victim of his own Killing Curse."

"W-What?" Sirius stuttered. "How?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. I assume he tried to curse Harry, but the spell somehow failed and backfired on him."

"T-That's impossible." Sirius said. Peering closely, he saw a lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead. "I-Is that a scar?"

"Yes, it is. A lasting reminder of the Killing Curse that rebounded off of Harry, defeating the Dark Lord. He will always carry this scar. Curses are powerful things."

"I-I'm his godfather. I-I should take care of Harry."

"Harry needs to grow up somewhere away from the influence of the magical world. Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all this fame until he's ready to take it?"

"O-Of course not! That's absurd! J-James would want me to take care of him! J-James would want him t-to grow up with wizards!"

"No. It is better if he does not. I will put him with his mother's relatives. He will be safe there."

"Y-You don't mean the Dursleys?"

"I am."

"Y-you can't! I've heard stories from Lily, a-about the horrendous ways they act, the th-things they do!"

"It is the best place for him to be."

"Y-You don't understand! They despise magic! They'll shun him! N-Neglect him! I'm his godfather! He's my responsibility!"

"It is okay. I will explain to them why they should take care of Harry. He needs to go there, to be safe. Ancient magic will protect him until he comes of age."

"W-Why can't you give him to me? Grimmauld Place is still under the Fidelius Charm. H-He'll be safe there. I-I can take care of him, m-make sure he won't be too spoiled or anything."

"I am sorry, but I can't do that."

Sirius pointed his wand at Dumbledore, fury etched into his face. When he spoke, his stutter was gone. "Listen here, old man! The Potter's will labels me as Harry's guardian in case something happens to them. He is my responsibility and I will not sit around while he is thrown onto the doorstep of some distant relatives of his! Give him to me right now, or I will take him from you!"

For once in his lifetime, Dumbledore actually looked scared. With a baby cradled in his arms, he had no way to reach for his wand effectively. Reluctantly, Dumbledore set Harry onto the ground and backed away. Reaching the threshold of the door, he turned and fled before Sirius could fire anything at him.

Sirius slowly put his wand away, and picked up his godson. He slowly started walking away from the house, devising a plan in his mind. He would give Harry to Lupin temporarily while he turned himself in. Amelia Bones, the Ministress of Magic, would make sure he got a trial. He was not concerned. The Potters' will labeled him as an innocent. He would convince the Ministry to hunt down Peter, letting them know he was an animagus. Sirius had enough Galleons from his inheritance to pay off the fine for being an unregistered animagus. He would take back Harry after his trial, and raise him like James would have. With a new goal in life, Sirius Apparated away.

* * *

**A/N: **I am not portraying Dumbledore here as evil. He just thought he was right. I am not making a GreaterGood!Dumbledore. He just thought that taking Harry to the Dursleys was the best thing to do.

**A/N 2: **Peter Pettigrew could've Confounded the Potters to prevent them from labeling him as a traitor in their will, but I don't think he would have thought about that. In this story Pettigrew was caught and is in Azkaban.

**A/N 3:** Amelia Bones is the Ministress of Magic, with Fudge as her advisor. I am making Sirius Black head of the DMLE, and am changing the "no magic at home" rule to be "no magic unless you are in an enclosed environment where you cannot be seen by Muggles (ie. room with no windows, house under the Fidelius Charm, etc.)".


	2. Chapter 2: School Shopping

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor do I put any claim whatsoever onto Harry Potter. I am making absolutely no profit on this, and I am not making this to gain anything whatsoever.

**A/N:** I am making Galleons worth $25, Sickles worth $1.50, and Knuts worth 5¢. J. K. Rowling stated that she is not good at math. I took the cost of a newspaper in 1991, worth 25¢, and the Harry Potter one, worth 5 Knuts, and estimated the other numbers (One website says that in 1990 newspapers were worth 75¢, and in 1991 it was worth 25¢. I chose the latter for my estimates).

* * *

**Chapter 2: School Shopping**

Harry Potter woke up to his magical alarm clock. Fumbling for the snooze button, Harry knocked his glasses onto the floor. Not bothering to get up, Harry turned off the alarm clock and left them there, falling back into bed. Staring up into the air, he tried to remember the date. He realized that today, he would be getting his very own wand! Harry jumped up, landing on his glasses with a crack. He froze, slowly bent down, and retrieved his broken spectacles.

"Kreacher!" he called. An old house elf appeared.

"Master called?" he asked.

"What did I say about calling me master?"

"Sorry."

"It's all right. Can you fix my glasses? Thanks."

Kreacher took the glasses, cast a simple spell, and gave the newly fixed glasses back to Harry. "Anything else?"

"Tell Sirius I'm coming down." Harry replied. He quickly changed and climbed down the stairs to the living room. Sirius was calmly sipping some tea on a moth-eaten couch.

"Hey. Ready to do some school shopping?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah."

"Eat your breakfast first, then we can go."

A few minutes later, Harry was standing by the fireplace. Sirius took a tiny vase decorated with painted flowers off of the mantel and tossed a pinch of powder into the fire, turning it emerald green.

"Remember, pronounce our location very clearly. We don't want another Floo incident."

"Hey, you shot a Stinging Hex at me! And I was six!" Harry protested, remembering the event clearly. He was going with Sirius to Gringotts at Diagon Alley. When hit with the Stinging Hex, he said "Diagon- OWIE!". He was then dumped into Knockturn Alley, where a concerned Sirius later found him.

Sirius laughed. "You're still never going to live that down. Anyway, let's go shopping!"

He stepped into the fire, called out "Diagon Alley!" and was promptly zipped away. Harry followed suit. Emerging from a fireplace located in Diagon Alley, Harry and Sirius starting walking in the direction to Gringotts to fetch some money. Soon enough, they were standing outside a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Walking through its burnished bronze doors, and the second pair of silver doors, with a clever poem warning them about theft, Harry and Sirius went up to one of the counters, run by a goblin. After showing Harry's vault key, the goblin called over another goblin by the name of Griphook to escort them to the Potter vault.

Harry and Sirius climbed into a small cart, and proceeded to hurtle down a narrow stone passageway carved from the solid rock. Passing by a multitude of hanging stalactites and stalagmites, and the Gringotts dragon, they arrived at their destination. Harry entered the room, which was filled with mountains of pure gold Galleons, not to mention the many Sickles and Knuts filling the room. Priceless paintings hung on the walls, and relics of many varieties were stored at the back of the chamber, with a fine layer of dust. Harry could easily live the rest of his life on this money even if he was unemployed. He knew most of this money came from his grandfather, who invented Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, which quadrupled the family fortune gathered from Linfred of Stinchcombe, who invented the early versions of Skele-Gro and Pepper-Up Potion. Gathering four handfuls of Galleons and depositing them into his money pouch, Harry left the vault, with Griphook locking the doors again. Another long cart ride later, Harry and Sirius found themselves outside the bank once again.

The pair walked over to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"I'll go grab ice cream. Take care of yourself." Prodded on by Sirius, a nervous Harry stepped inside.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed in all mauve. She looked up from her place behind the counter.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked. "Got the lot here- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

Madam Malkins showed him to a stool. Harry stood on it, next to a boy with a pale, pointed face. He vaguely recognized the boy.

"Hello," the boy said. "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes." said Harry.

"Do I know you? You seem familiar. Maybe your dad's a coworker with mine?"

"Sort of. I'm Harry."

"I'm Draco, Draco Malfoy." Harry recognized the name. "My father's next door buying my books and Mother's up the street looking for wands. I think I'll look at racing brooms next. Do you have one?"

"A Nimbus 2000." Harry replied.

Draco whistled. "Nice! I'm thinking of buying that one too. Is it worth it?"

"Totally."

"Awesome! Play Quidditch on it?"

"What else would I use a broom for?"

"You have a point. I hope I can make it on the Quidditch team. I heard good enough first years can play with everyone else. Know what House you'll be in?"

"My parents were in Gryffindor. I'm not sure what I'll be in, though."

"My whole family's been in Slytherin. If I was in Hufflepuff, I'd probably leave."

Harry snorted. "If your family didn't kick you out first. They're Purebloods, right?"

"Yeah. What about you? Are you a Pureblood?"

"Half-blood."

Draco's face instantly changed into a kind of half sneer. "Oh, that's a shame. Was your mother or father a Muggleborn?"

"My mother."

Before they could say anything else, Madam Malkin came back with Hogwarts robes. Harry stood up, paid for the robes, and left the shop. Sirius was standing outside, holding Harry's favorite ice cream flavor.

"You see the prejudice Purebloods have?" Sirius said as they were walking away. Harry licked his ice cream again before answering.

"Yeah. The instant I said I was a half-blood, Draco's impressions of me went downhill. No worries, though. I don't need a friend like that."

"That's true. Makes me glad my mother burned me off the family tree."

"Didn't stop you from becoming Lord Black."

"That's true. If it becomes too much, I'll just hand it to you. Maybe when the housing bill comes in."

"Hey!" Harry protested, while Sirius laughed at him.

The pair bought books at Flourish and Blotts, including a particularly interesting one on how to curse people. They also bought an indestructible pewter cauldron, a nice set of scales, and a collapsible brass telescope. They stopped at the Apothecary to get some basic potion ingredients and an emergency healing kit, which included a real bezoar and some dragon blood. Harry tried holding his breath during the duration of this trip. Harry also managed to convince Sirius to get him an expensive mokeskin pouch and a hidden wand holster attached to his wrist. Finally, they stopped in front of Ollivanders.

"You go on without me. Ollivander gives me the creeps." Sirius said, playfully shoving Harry forward.

"Coward." Harry shot back, stepping into the shop.

"Good afternoon." said a soft voice.

"Hello." Harry replied.

"Ah, yes. Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

"Sorry to interrupt you, but could I please get my wand?" Harry asked awkwardly.

"Of course, of course." Ollivander pulled a long tape measure out of his pocket. "Stick out your wand arm, please."

Ollivander proceeded to take measurements for a few minutes, and started to take down boxes.

"That will do. Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry waved that one around before Ollivander snatched it away. And the second one. And the third. Soon, there was a pile of wands growing ever so steadily on a spindly chair.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere- I wonder, now- yes, why not- unusual combination- holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand, feeling a sudden warmth in his fingers. He brought the wand swishing down along with a stream of red and gold sparks. Harry was now confident he would be placed in Gryffindor.

"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…"

"What's curious?" Harry asked.

"I remember every wand I've sold, Mr. Potter. The phoenix who gave this feather gave just one other. Why, this wand's very brother gave you that scar."

Harry walked out of Ollivanders with an ashen face.

"Everything alright? How did it go?" Sirius asked, concerned.

"I'm fine." Harry tried to be convincing, but failed. Sirius stopped asking questions.

"Holly and phoenix feather, 11 inches, nice and supple." Harry said, holding up his new wand.

"Woohoo! Now I can teach you some spells at home!" Sirius cheered.

"Am I allowed to do that before Hogwarts?"

"Actually, I'm not sure."

"Not sure? You're an Auror, for goodness' sake!"

"What can I say? I'm a rebel."

"I still can't believe how you managed to become an Auror."

"What can I say? I'm awesome."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, right. Can you at least try and be serious?"

Harry realized his mistake too late, and Sirius smiled.

"Why, Harry, I'm always Siriu-"

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter was shorter than I would have liked it to be. I didn't want to copy the Gringotts cart ride or most of the visits in Diagon Alley. I plan on trying to update every couple of days or a week, depending on the length of the chapter. I will put a notice if I am going on a break or a vacation or something.


	3. Chapter 3: The Hogwarts Express

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor do I put any claim whatsoever onto Harry Potter. I am making absolutely no profit on this, and I am not making this to gain anything whatsoever.

**A/N:** Harry is an Occlumens, due to the extensive knowledge of the Black family. He also found out he was a Parselmouth during a particular incident with a Snake-Summoning Charm.

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Hogwarts Express**

Harry woke at five o'clock the next morning and was too tired and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn't want to walk into the station in his wizard's robes- he'd change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig, his owl whom Sirius had bought for his 10th birthday, was still in her cage, and then paced the room, waiting for Sirius to get up. He reread his Potions textbook for the third time. He needed to, because his teacher was none other than Severus "Snivellus" Snape, his godfather's childhood nemesis. Knowing him, Snape would try and deduct as many points as possible from Harry on the first day of school. After a while, Harry set the book down and started pacing the room again.

Two hours later, Harry was being driven to King's Cross in Sirius's magically altered car. At half past ten Harry wheeled his cart onto the station, with Sirius helping. They stopped, looking at the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"Remember, walk straight at the barrier. Don't stop and be scared you'll crash, that's very important. I don't want to suffer a broken nose." Sirius instructed Harry, who rolled his eyes at him.

The pair waited until were less Muggles around, then ran through the barrier. A scarlet steam engine was waiting for them, next to a platform packed with people. Grey smoke drifted from the engine, winding over the heads of the chattering crowd beneath it. Glad that he had worn makeup to cover the scar, Harry looked around for an empty compartment.

"I'll see you soon, Harry. Try not to cause too little trouble. Don't go flaunting your Occlumency and Parselmouth skills. Also, see if the Weasley twins have my old map." Sirius said.

"Will do." Harry responded. He spotted a round-faced boy boarding one of the last compartments.

"Is that Neville?" Harry asked, just as the boy tripped on one of the steps.

"I think that is. Go introduce yourself to your godbrother." Sirius urged.

Harry tried to lift his trunk, to no avail. He pulled out his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The trunk and Hedwig's cage started to rise into the air. Harry opened the door to the train and guided the floating objects inside. Opening a compartment door, Harry saw Neville and a certain girl with large front teeth and brown, bushy hair.

"Can I sit down here?" Harry asked.

"Sure." Neville nervously said.

"Were you using the Levitating Charm?" the girl asked.

"Yes." Harry replied simply. Sitting down next to Neville, he extended his hand. "I don't think we've met. I'm Harry, your godbrother. You're Neville, right?"

Neville just stared at him. Finally, he nodded and shook Harry's hand. "Godbrother? Gran's never told me I had a godbrother."

Harry cocked his head curiously. "She didn't? Your mother's my godmother."

"What's your last name?"

"Do you have to ask?"

"Sorry. Gran's always talking about how important it is to make friends with the right families."

"It's alright. I'm Harry Potter."

Neville's eyes widened.

"Where's your scar?" the girl asked skeptically.

"What? Oh, sorry." Harry wiped the makeup off his forehead. "I hid it using makeup. I don't like everyone staring at my forehead."

"That makes sense. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way." Hermione shook hands with Harry. "I know all about you, of course- you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"I've read countless books on me. Most of them are highly exaggerated."

"Oh. What House do you think you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it by far sounds the best-"

"Oh no! I've lost my toad again!" Neville said, searching his pockets.

Standing up, Harry and Hermione checked the corners of the compartment. They couldn't find any trace of Neville's pet.

"Maybe you can ask someone to use a Summoning Charm? I know there's a prefects' carriage somewhere on this train." Harry suggested.

"Okay, I'll try that. See you in a bit." Neville left the compartment in search of the prefects' carriage.

The train started to move. Harry poked his head out a nearby window, and waved back at Sirius. He watched as his godfather slowly became smaller and smaller, before he disappeared over the horizon. After he could be seen no more, Harry turned his attention back to Hermione.

"What were you saying?" he asked.

Hermione started talking super fast. "I was talking about Gryffindor. It sounds the best. I mean, Dumbledore was in that house! You know, the wizard who discovered the twelve uses of dragon blood?"

"Sorry, but could you speak a little slower?"

Hermione blushed. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Happens to everyone."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for understanding." Hermione said, still blushing.

"No problem."

At that moment, Neville came back, his toad in his hands.

"Did you know that Lee Jordan had a giant tarantula? Fred and George are talking all about it!" he said excitedly.

Harry jumped up. "Sorry, I just remembered something. Got some business with the Weasley twins."

Harry grabbed his mokeskin pouch and left the compartment. He traveled toward the front of the train, peeking into every compartment until he found one with two red-headed identical twins. They simultaneously looked up at him.

"Hello there," one of them said. "I'm George."

"And I'm Fred." The other one said.

"How do I know you two aren't switching your names to confuse me?" Harry asked suspiciously.

The twins glanced at each other, then at Harry, not expecting that someone could see through their ploy so easily.

"What brings you here?" asked the twin, presumably Fred.

"I heard that you two know every single corridor and secret room in Hogwarts. Is that true?" Harry asked.

"That's us." George said proudly.

"What would you do if I told you there was a secret room and passageway you guys never found?"

The twins exchanged another meaningful look.

"You know, that's impossible." Fred said.

"Is it? Did you look behind every mirror? Tickle every picture? Crawl under every tree?" Harry asked.

The twins looked shocked.

"How did you know that?" Fred asked.

"I have my ways. Anyway, you seem so sure that you know every secret place inside Hogwarts. Do you by any chance have the Marauder's Map?"

This time the twins actually leaped out of their seats in shock.

"How did you find this out?" George asked, suddenly tense.

"Relax, relax. My father was Prongs, and my godfather is Padfoot. Moony's a family friend, and Wormtail is in Azkaban."

"Your father is Prongs? Who are you?" Fred asked.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

"You're joking!" George exclaimed, but the scar on Harry's forehead said otherwise.

"What do you want?" Fred asked.

"I was just wondering if I could keep the Marauder's Map. It's kind of my inheritance. You guys could borrow it from time to time. I also hope you don't mind if can help you with some pranks? Padfoot has some fabulous ideas. In exchange, I could arrange for you to meet with the remaining Marauders. Also, I could show you an Unplottable room in Hogwarts with its own secret passageway. What do you say?"

Fred and George had a quick whispered conversation.

"We're in." they said.

Fred took a seemingly blank piece of parchment out of a pocket, which Harry took. Tapping the paper with his wand, he muttered "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The parchment suddenly transformed into a map of Hogwarts, complete with tracked movements of everyone inside. Dumbledore was pacing around his office, Snape must be brewing something in the dungeon, and Bathilda Bagshot was sitting in a chair by the fireplace with Professor McGonagall in the teacher's lounge. Sprouts was in the greenhouse, Trelawney in her room in the North Tower, and other members of the faculty, including Hagrid, were doing various things around the castle.

"Mischief managed." Harry said, and the map instantly became a blank piece of parchment again. Taking out his mokeskin pouch, to the awe of the Weasley twins, he deposited the Marauder's Map inside. His pouch currently contained his father's two-way mirror and Invisibility Cloak, along with a small bag of Galleons. He mostly stored his prized possession inside his mokeskin pouch, except for his father's wand, which was hidden in his shoe in case of an emergency.

"Thanks for doing business with you guys. Talk to me in the Common Room if you feel up to some pranking, okay? I'll show you the Room of Requirement over the weekend." Harry didn't wait for an answer, instead leaving the compartment and joining Hermione and Neville again.

Neville was looking thoroughly confused by everything Hermione was talking about, but was trying to understand. Harry sat down between them and joined the conversation, which was apparently about Hogwarts, A History.

"Did you know that the History teacher, Bathilda Bagshot, wrote Hogwarts, A History?" Hermione said.

"I'm sorry, I don't think a lot of people have actually read that book." Neville said.

"I have." Harry said.

Hermione's eyes glowed. "You did? I'm not the only one!"

Hermione kept talking about all kinds of facts. Harry was starting to think she would be a good fit in Ravenclaw. While she may be very talkative and kind of a know-it-all, Harry thought she would be a good friend to have. Around half past twelve, a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door.

"Anything off the cart, dears?" she asked.

Harry stood up, and proceeded to order a couple Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Chocolate Frogs, and even dared to buy a few of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans. Sitting back down, he offered some of the sweets to his friends. Neville took a chocolate frog, and Hermione, curious, took a packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans.

"Do you know what we'll be learning?" asked Neville, looking at his Card. He frowned.

"It's Dumbledore. Here, you want it? He asked, giving it to Hermione, who eagerly read the Card.

"I think we have Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy and Herbology." Harry replied.

"Don't forget the regular subjects, like math and science. You also forgot to include flying. That's not a subject, but we still learn it." said Hermione.

Neville paled. "I don't know how to fly. I'm probably going to fall off my broomstick. Come off it, I'll probably fail all my classes."

"Don't say that!" said Harry.

"My whole family thought I was a Squib. It took Great Uncle Algie accidentally dropping me out of an upstairs window to have something magical occur."

"They dropped you?! If you were a Squib, you could've died!" Hermione gasped.

"Most people would rather be dead than be a Squib. At least now I've got Trevor and my dad's wand." Neville waved his wand around.

"Your father's wand? Did it choose you or something?" Harry asked.

"Huh? Uh… I think so…" Neville said.

"What is it?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Thirteen inches, cherry and unicorn hair."

"Unicorn hair?"

"Uh… yeah. So what?"

"Unicorn hair just so happens to be very loyal to its first owner. It might not work as well as a hand-me down."

"Really? Neville, you better tell your Gran to go to Ollivanders over the weekend. I can pay for the wand." Harry offered.

"You would? Thanks! I better write to Gran. Can I use your owl? What's its name, by the way?" Neville asked.

"Hedwig. You can use her. She probably needs her exercise, anyway."

"Oh, thanks!" Neville said, getting our a quill and parchment. He took out his inkwell, accidentally spilling a couple drops onto the paper, and started to write, his half-eaten Chocolate Frog forgotten. Suddenly, the compartment door slid open, and Draco Malfoy, flanked by two hulking figures.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, isn't it?"

"What's it to you?" Harry asked.

"I haven't seen you a lot in the Wizarding World. Probably don't have many friends, then. You don't want to make friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Draco said, looking at the Muggleborn witch.

"So you can find me people like those two?" Harry guestered at the heavyset boys, who he presumed were bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle. My father just wanted them to be with me, in case something happened to me."

"I'm not sure if you'd noticed, but I think I already found some friends. I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."

Draco Malfoy turned a tinge pink. "I'd be more politer if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents-"

"Are you threatening me?" Harry said calmly. "I am the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Your family's honour will be tarnished if you try to harm such an old and noble bloodline."

Draco Malfoy flinched. "I am extremely sorry, I didn't know that. I apologize for my actions. I presumed you were off living with your Muggle relatives. I did not mean any harm to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. Please forgive me for my actions."

"It's alright. Just go away, please."

This time Draco Malfoy did go red. He started to speak, but changed his mind and closed his mouth. He turned, motioning for his bodyguards to come, and briskly walked out the door, not bothering to close it. Hermione, who was sitting closest, closed the compartment door.

"What was that all about?" asked Hermione.

"In the Wizarding World, there are three 'types' of people: Purebloods, half-bloods, and Muggleborns…" Harry proceeded to give a long talk about blood purity and the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Neville pointed out some details Harry had missed. After a while, Harry poked his head out the window. It was getting dark. He could see tall mountains and majestic forests beneath the violet sky, and a sliver of sun was barely peeking through the top of the trees. Harry felt as if the train was gradually slowing.

"We should probably get changed. Looks like we might arrive at Hogwarts soon." Taking off his jacket, Harry slipped into his long black robes. Hermione and Neville did the same.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to school separately."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, I'm not leaving my valuables on the train. Do you guys want to bring anything? I've got a mokeskin pouch with an Extension Charm on it."

Curious, Hermione peeked inside. She gasped. "How is this possible? Where does all this extra space come from?"

Harry laughed. "I don't know. Either of you want to take anything? No? Okay, then."

When the train stopped, people came out onto a tiny, dark platform. Looking around, Harry could make out the silhouette of the landscape, along with some minor details.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" said a gigantic man who towered over everyone. Harry thought he looked like a half-giant.

"C'mon, follow me- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" the man shouted.

"Excuse me, who are you?" Harry asked.

"I'm Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." the man replied. Harry could vaguely remember his godfather talking about this man.

The first years followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path that Harry thought should be better maintained by the school governors. Harry, who had a natural balance, combined with his godfather's training, calmly trudged along the path, amidst the clambering, stumbling, and slipping students. Nobody spoke much, aside from a few whispers here and there.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' view of Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder. "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

Harry just admires the view, impressed. The narrow path had opened up onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, high and regal, its many windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers, resembling an impenetrable fortress.

"No more'n four to a boat!" called Hagrid, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Neville, and Hermione were followed into their boat by a red-haired boy with lots of freckles, who seemed to be wearing hand-me-down robes.

"Everyone in? Right then- FORWARD!" shouted Hagrid.

The boats sailed soundlessly over the water, which was smooth as glass. The fleet slowly moved towards the cliff on which Hogwarts stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as they were carried through a curtain of ivy, traveling down a dark and dreary tunnel underneath the castle. The tunnel was almost pitch black.

"Lumos!" called Harry, a brilliant bright light shining from the tip of his wand. Everyone shielded their eyes for a second while their eyes adjusted to the light.

"You can already cast spells?" the red-headed boy asked in awe.

"Your parents didn't teach you anything?" Harry asked, surprised.

"No," said the boy glumly. "I have five older brothers and a younger sister who my parents adore."

Connecting the dots, Harry asked, "Are you a Weasley?"

"Yes. I'm Ron Weasley." said the boy. "I have a lot to live up to in Hogwarts. Bill was Head Boy, Charlie was Quidditch Captain, Percy is a Prefect now, and Fred and George are always funny and popular, even if they don't receive the best grades. I don't think I have a chance, to be honest."

"Don't be like that! You'll do fine! Just study for the tests in advance. In my opinion you should usually start studying for the final exams four months in advance." Hermione said.

"Blimey, four months? Are you insane?" Ron said.

"I'll have you know, those tests are very important. If you don't pass them, you could be held back." Hermione responded, affronted.

"You're still crazy! What kind of person studies four months in advance?!" Ron exclaimed.

"Hermione does. I support her, even if you don't." Harry said evenly.

"And who are you?" Ron asked.

"Harry. Harry Potter."

"Blimey, really? Can I see your scar?"

"Why does everyone ask me this?" Harry groaned, exasperated.

"Please?" Ron said.

"Fine." Harry pulled aside his bangs. Ron proceeded to star at the scar for a good five seconds.

"How does it feel? I mean, to be rich and famous? Does it feel good?"

"Gee, my parents were murdered and I survived, so now I'm famous! This feels so good!" Harry said sarcastically.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that." Ron said, head down.

Before Harry could respond, the boats arrived at an underground harbor. Harry climbed out of the boat, and proceeded to walk up a flight of stone steps, stopped in front of a huge, oak front door, which must've been the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Everyone here?" Hagrid asked. After doing a headcount, he raised his gigantic fist and knocked three times on the door.

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**A/N:** I would've uploaded this sooner, but my computer had an update. Anyway, feel free to review this story if you have any suggestions, found a mistake in my writing, or have some comments or criticisms.

**A/N 2:** This is the first scene with Ron bashing. I did not portray him badly, I literally took his attitude from the first book and put it into a couple of lines here. I don't think Harry will befriend Ron with this kind of attitude, now that he is siding with Hermione. Ron will instead become friends with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, but will probably come up a couple of times throughout this fanfiction.


	4. Chapter 4: The Great Feast

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor do I put any claim whatsoever onto Harry Potter. I am making absolutely no profit on this, and I am not making this to gain anything whatsoever.

**A/N:** Overnight my fanfiction managed to double in views. I want to thank the readers for supporting my story thus far, and I encourage them to share the story around.

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**Chapter 4: The Great Feast**

The doors swung open at once, revealing a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." said Hagrid. Harry realized that this was his Transfiguration teacher. He decided right there and then to start studying extra hard in that class.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She motioned for the students to follow her inside. Walking inside, Harry's gaze traveled the entrance hall. It was so humongous you could've fit the entirety of Grimmauld Place inside. The ceiling was so high Harry couldn't make out any features. The walls were lined with flaming torches like the one at Gringotts, and a magnificent marble staircase spiraled upward.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right- the rest of the school must have already arrived. Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing close together uncomfortably, peering about nervously. Professor McGongall proceeded to give a long speech about the Sorting and the Houses. Harry zoned out for the majority of the speech.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much you can while you are waiting." Harry had started to pay attention to McGonagall again, who was finishing up her speech. She was currently eyeing on Neville's misfastened cloak and Ron's smudged nose. Harry didn't bother to try to flatten his hair or anything. Even Sleekeazy's Hair Potion proved ineffective.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the Chamber.

"Did you know that the Sorting is done with Godric Gryffindor's hat?" Hermione whispered. "I heard that he enchanted it to become sentient so it could place everyone in their respective Houses after he died."

Suddenly, about twenty ghosts streamed out through the back wall. Hermione screamed and clutched to Harry's arm. The pearly-white spectres slowly glided across the room, arguing at each other. They hadn't seem to have noticed the first years yet.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-" said a fat little monk.

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?" said a ghost wearing a ruff and tights, finally noticing the first years.

"We're first years, about to be Sorted" said Harry. "Are you talking about Peeves the poltergeist? In my opinion, he makes Hogwarts unique, in a way."

"Exactly my sentiment!" said the Fat Friar, smiling at them. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. All the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line, and follow me." instructed McGonagall.

Harry stepped into line behind Neville and walked back across the entrance hall and through a pair of double doors leading to the fabled Great Hall. Thousands of floating candles hung over four very long tables, which had gleaming golden plates and goblets on them. The rest of the Hogwarts students were sitting at their respective tables, beneath large banners displaying their House mascot and colors. At the top of the hall was another long table for the various teachers at Hogwarts to dine. Professor McGongall led them up there, facing them towards the other students. A velvety black ceiling dotted with stars was also overhead.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky overhead. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_." Hermione whispered.

"I know. I read the book too, remember?" Harry said, and Hermione stopped talking, embarrassed. Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of them, with a certain frayed and extremely dirty pointed hat placed atop it. After a few seconds, the hat twitched, then opened its brim- which Harry assumed was its mouth- and began to sing.

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

The whole hall burst into applause, and the Sorting Hat did a little awkward bow to each of the Houses, and Harry noticed it bowed the most to Gryffindor and the least to Slytherin. McGonagall held up a long roll of parchment and started calling names to go up and place the hat on their head, starting with "Abbott, Hannah!", who was sorted into "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bones, Susan!" Harry watched the girl curiously. Was she related to the Minister of Magic? She was also sorted into Hufflepuff. A couple other random people were sorted into the various houses. Seamus Finnigan took a minute for the hat to place him into Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!" McGonagall called.

Hermione practically ran over to the stool and eagerly jammed it onto her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Sorting Hat called. Ron groaned, and Harry shot him a glare whilst clapping for his friend.

A little while later, Neville was called up, and was also placed in Gryffindor. Again, Harry clapped for his friend. He ran off, still wearing the Sorting Hat. Embarrassed, he returned the hat to the stool. Harry had noticed that he seemed to be extremely clumsy, as seen on the Hogwarts Express. Harry assumed it was from the unhealthy pressure his grandmother seemed to be putting on him.

When his name was called, Draco Malfoy swaggered up to the hat, who called out, before Draco even put on the hat, "SLYTHERIN!"

The stuck up boy joined his hulking friends at the table underneath a silver snake surrounded by green.

At long last, McGonagall finally started to reach the place where Harry's name law.

"Potter, Harry!" she called.

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"_Potter_, did she say?"

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

"Excuse me, but could you please stop talking? The Sorting Hat needs to concentrate. And if any of you were wondering, yes, I am _the_ Harry Potter. How many people do you think are called that name?" Harry asked rhetorically. Nobody answered. After a while, everybody just started whispering again, to Harry's exasperation. Sitting down, Harry plopped the Sorting Hat over his eyes, engulfing him in darkness. Harry used his Occlumency training to zone out to get rid of the constant whispering. He waited. And waited. Suddenly, something very powerful slammed against his Occlumency barriers, nearly shattering them. Harry almost fell off the stool from the force of the blow. An attack! Whipping out his wand, Harry threw the Sorting Hat off his head and looked around, searching for a threat. There were no attackers. A few people from the Slytherin table snickered. The Legilimency attack seemed to have abated.

"Did you have to do that?" asked the Sorting Hat.

"Sorry, something attacked my Occlumency barriers." Harry apologized.

"That was me. I was trying to tell you to take down your barriers, but you weren't responding. I decided to try and break them instead. You have strong Occlumency shields for someone so young, although it was no match for Godric Gryffindor's might."

"Godric Gryffindor was a Legilimens?"

"No, he enchanted me to be one. I said his _might_, not his _Legilimens_. His magic causes me to be a powerful Legilimens."

"Oh. That makes sense."

"Now, if your done asking questions, can I Sort you now?"

"What? Oh yeah, right."

Harry slipped on the Sorting Hat for the second time, this time with his Occlumency barriers down.

"Hmm," said the Sorting Hat quietly. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes- so much more potential waiting to be unlocked- and lots of cunning, too… So where shall I put you?"

The Sorting Hat's murmuring reminded Harry a lot of Ollivander. The Sorting Hat gave a quiet laugh at the thought. He thought about his possible potential, and vowed to keep working very hard. He felt like he should be in Gryffindor more than any other House. While working hard might make him a Hufflepuff, Sirius always said he had a reckless side to him, which was a very Gryffindor trait. His cunning was conceived by his daring plans to prank people- probably learned from Sirius- and he didn't think he had the qualities of a Ravenclaw.

"Not thinking about Slytherin, eh?" said the Sorting Hat. "You could be great, you know. Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that…"

Harry transmitted to the Sorting Hat that he was already on his way to greatness, as he was famous for being the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Well, if you're sure- better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry, relieved, took the Sorting Hat off of his head, and walked over to the scarlet table under the majestic golden lion, amidst the loud cheers directed toward him. Percy Weasley got up, shook Harry's hand, and introduced himself. Fred and George chanted "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Harry sat down next to Neville and Hermione.

"You're an Occlumens?" Hermione said, in awe.

"What was that about?" Neville asked at the same time.

Harry answered both questions, to Neville's shock and Hermione's admiration.

"You seem to be full of surprises, Harry. Any other special abilities you want to share with us? Metamorphmagus, maybe? Animagus? Parselmouth?" she asked.

Before Harry could say anything, he was saved by the loud cheering of the Weasleys. Ron had just been Sorted into Gryffindor. Harry applauded politely.

"Well done, Ron, excellent." Percy said, as the last person was Sorted.

Albus Dumbledore got to his feet, beaming at the students, arms opened wide.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

Dumbledore sat back down while everyone clapped and cheered. Harry was wondering if Dumbledore was a bit senile. Meanwhile, a shocked Hermione had her mouth hanging open.

"Did he just insult the Houses?" she asked. Harry had no idea what she was talking about, but didn't ask her what she meant.

Harry realized he was starving. The things he had ate on the Hogwarts Express seemed forever ago. Harry looked around at the empty golden plates. Where was the food? Suddenly, the dishes in front of Harry were piled with food. There were house elves! Harry's eyes seemed to double in size. There were steaming platters of juicy roast beef and chicken, mouth-watering dishes of pork and lamb chops, sizzling sausages, fatty slices of thick-cut bacon, and steaks cooked to perfection. There were piles of boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, and fries. There were fresh peas, carrots, and thick gravy that was just the right consistency. There was Yorkshire pudding, and, strangely enough, peppermint humbugs.

Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. He had never tried food this good, not even at some of the Ministry parties and banquets he had attended.

"That does look good." said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can you taste it if you pass through it?" Harry asked. It was a common myth about ghosts.

"If the food is rotting, almost." replied the ghost. "I haven't eaten in nearly five hundred years. I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"Nearly Headless Nick?" Harry asked.

"I would _prefer _you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington-" the ghost began, but Harry cut him off.

"_Nearly_ Headless? How can you be _nearly_ headless?" asked Seamus Finnigan.

"Like _this_," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and yanked it, swinging his whole head onto his shoulder like a door on a hinge. Pleased at the stunned looks coming from everyone, he reattached his head to the rest of his body. "So- new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable- he's the Slytherin ghost."

"We haven't won the House Championship for _six_ years? What happened?" Harry asked.

"Nothing. And that's the problem. Dumbledore has awarded last minute points to Gryffindor for reckless behavior before, but no one's been doing anything courageous. Sure, the Weasley twins prank a lot of people, but a majority of Gryffindor aren't showing their daring, nerve, and chivalry. For some reason, Dumbledore seems to reward that kind of behavior." said Nearly Headless Nick. "Oh, how I wish I could see the face on the Bloody Baron if we won this year…"

"Well, we seem to be stuck in a conundrum. If nothing important happens, we won't receive our House Cup. We seem to be relying on luck." Harry said.

"Are you seriously plotting to get in trouble?" Hermione asked. "I know you want to win the House Cup, but seriously, do you hear what you are saying?"

"Well, seeing as I have two ears, I would think so."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it!"

"Calm down, Hermione. Even if someone in Gryffindor _does_ manage to lose House points, you can just bring us back up with your supreme intelligence."

"You're laying on the flattery a bit thick."

"Am I? Better tone down the compliments, then."

Hermione playfully slapped Harry on the arm. "Just don't get in trouble, okay?"

"Fine. Guess I won't be wandering around the Forbidden Forest this year."

"I mean it!"

"Okay, okay."

They went back to eating. Harry noticed Neville hadn't said anything during that whole conversation. Either he was too hungry or too shy to talk. Or maybe the food was just too delicious. After everyone was done eating, the deserts appeared. There were blocks of ice cream in every flavor imaginable, various assorted pastries and warm pies that gave off a delicious aroma. There were treacle tarts and chocolate éclairs, multiple doughnuts with various toppings and fillings, chocolate-covered fruit, different flavors of Jell-O, and pudding. Harry helped himself to a treacle tart and listened to the surrounding conversation about families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

Everyone laughed.

"You're lucky you have such a great dad. He could've your mum when he found out she was a witch." Hermione said.

Seamus contemplated the comment. Finally, he said, "You're actually right. I'll send my dad a thank you tonight."

The conversation resumed.

"What about you, Neville?" asked Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch." said Neville. "My family thought I was a Squib for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off guard and force my magic out of me- he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned- but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankls when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced- all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here- they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

"Let me get this straight. You almost died, twice, and you didn't get anything? That doesn't seem fair." said Harry.

"They got me Trevor," Neville tried to protest. "And he's a good pet."

"That was when you got accepted into Hogwarts, not when you almost died." Harry pointed out.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot." said Neville. "Gran's always complaining about my forgetfulness."

"It really doesn't sound like your childhood was that much fun. You always talk about what your Gran said and how you almost died trying to find your magic."

"Well… uh… I suppose…"

"Whatever the case, Hogwarts is now your home. Hopefully it will be an enjoyable stay for the next few years." interrupted Nearly Headless Nick.

"Thanks, I guess."

There was a moment of silence. Then the conversation started right back up again. Harry listened to Hermione discuss the Hogwarts curriculum. They were currently talking about Transfiguration. Feeling tired, Harry looked up at the High Table. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. McGonagall and Dumbledore were having a friendly chat. Harry finally noticed Professor Snape, with his greasy black hair, hooked nose, shallow skin, and cold demeanor. He was talking to a professor in an absurd turban. Snape looked past Quirrel, directly into Harry's eyes, and a sharp, hot pain erupted from the scar on Harry's forehead. Harry averted his gaze and clapped a hand to his head.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"Is Snape a Legilimens?" asked Harry. "I felt a sharp pain when he looked at me."

"I don't think so," said Percy. "Though that doesn't sound like the effects of a Legilimency attack. Besides, a Hogwarts professor would _never_ do something like that!"

"I don't know about that. Professor Snape had a personal vendetta against my father. He might take out his anger on me."

"Don't say that! Sure, he may not be the nicest of people, but he _is_ a Hogwarts professor! I mean, Dumbledore hired him, so he has to be good. Besides, the school governors put him on probation."

"Really? What happened?"

"They kept getting complaints about him. Not surprisingly, none of them came from Slytherins. At first, the Department of Magical Education ignored the complaints, but after their reputation started to slowly decline, they put him on probation. That was also the time they fired Binns and replaced him with Bathilda Bagshot. I must say, that was a wise decision on their part."

"Who's the man in the turban?" Harry asked, quickly changing the topic.

"Oh, that's Professor Quirrell. He's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Used to teach Muggle Studies, now it's Charity Burbage. You know, people reckon the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed. No teacher has lasted longer than a year. Dumbledore tried to get rid of the curse, but he couldn't. Because of that, I believe it's unlikely that there _is_ a curse. If Dumbledore couldn't do it, who could?"

"I feel like people always exaggerate what Dumbledore can and can't do." said Harry. "I mean, they almost praise him as much as they do me! But as you can clearly see, I have slain not slain any dragons and am certainly not a heroic figure in a cape."

"People will always overestimate the strengths of their idols. That's common. But Dumbledore's really as good as people say. You-Know-Who was scared of him!"

"That's true."

"Anyway, if your scar isn't hurting anymore, I best be back to my conversation with Hermione." Percy said, noticing her waiting impatiently.

"That's alright." Harry said. He joined the conversation with the other Gryffindor boys again, enjoying a second treacle tart. A while later, all the remaining desert disappeared. Dumbledore stood up again.

"Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. Hermione looked warningly at Harry.

"I have been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

The Weasley twins looked at each other, then Lee Jordan, then Harry. Fred mimed holding a map in his hands. Harry gave him a nod.

"That's odd. Dumbledore usually gives a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere- the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least." said Percy.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and a golden ribbon shot out of the end of it, forming words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_ _Teach us something please,_ _Whether we be old and bald_ _Or young with scabby knees,_ _Our heads could do with filling_ _With some interesting stuff,_ _For now they're bare and full of air,_ _Dead flies and bits of fluff,_ _So teach us things worth knowing,_ _Bring back what we've forgot,_ _Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_ _And learn until our brains all rot._

Everyone finished the songs at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left, singing to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted the last few lines with his wand, and everyone clapped when Fred and George finished.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes, "A magic beyond anything we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot."

"They don't play music at Hogwarts?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"I don't think so…" Harry replied.

"Do they even have electives here?!"

"Yes. We get them third year."

"Why doesn't Hogwarts have music classes…" Hermione moaned.

"Follow me, first years." Percy commanded. All the new Gryffindors proceeded to go up the marble staircase in the entrance hall. Harry was stuffed, and it was difficult to walk up the ornate steps. As the dormitory was in Gryffindor Tower, Harry assumed it would be at the top of the castle. The portraits whispered and pointed at them, and Percy led them through hidden doorways behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was wondering how much further they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bunch of walking sticks were floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist."

"Peeves- show yourself."

A loud, rude noise, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Wait, this is Peeves? The Marauders send their regards!" Harry called.

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks. He had a curious look on his face.

"The Marauders, you say? What do ickle firsties know about them?" he said with an evil cackle.

"I'm the son of one of them. Why don't you go terrorize the first year Slytherins? I bet Malfoy has a girly scream."

"Malfoy?"

"Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy. The Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy. The pompous stuck-up brat who thinks he is oh so high and mighty. I heard him boasting about being immune to anything the school could throw at him because he is part of a noble pureblood family."

Peeves scowled. "No one is safe from me! How dare he say that! Alright, then, I'll leave you ickle firsties for now. I've got some bones to pick with that Malfoy."

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"How did you do that?" Percy asked, in awe. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him. And who are the Marauders?"

"Oh, just a little band of troublemakers. Besides, I didn't control Peeves. If you pull the right strings, you can divert his attention elsewhere so he'll leave you alone. If you're on his good side, it's a lot easier."

"Good side?"

"You have to make a lot of trouble."

"Oh. Wait, are you going to get on his good side?"

"I'm undecided."

"I'll have to deduct House points from you if you-"

"I just said I'm undecided. You wouldn't take away House points for someone not making a decision, would you? Things like that could get your Prefect status revoked."

"Well… oh, never mind."

"That was amazing!" said Neville as Percy walked away again.

"Did you really just go make Peeves bully some innocent person?" demanded Hermione.

"Oh, Draco's far from innocent. Besides, rather him than us." seeing the look on Hermione's face, he said, "You haven't met him yet. Trust me, when you do, you'll be saying the same."

"I doubt that." Hermione said, and kept walking.

"Here we are," said Percy finally. "You need a password to enter the Gryffindor Common Room. If you forget them, you could be stuck outside."

Neville paled.

"It's alright. You can just make a list for the passwords." Harry said.

"What if I lose the list? Neville asked.

"Make three lists, and store them in different pockets. That way, if you lose one or two of them, you still have another one to use."

"That's a good idea. I'll do that. Can you remind me later? I might forget."

"Sure."

Percy walked up to the portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she asked.

"Caput Draconis." Percy said, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall.

"That's it?" Harry asked. Percy looked at him quizzically.

"What?"

"The security. All you need is a password? What would happen if someone was spying on us? Then they would have full access to Gryffindor Tower!" Harry said.

"Actually, you're right. Maybe we should keep IDs or something…" mused Percy. "I'll tell McGonagall. Good thinking. Maybe I'll make her give you a few points or something."

"Also, why do we have to crawl through a hole? There's no point for that being there. Just put an archway in the wall instead."

"Why didn't I think of that? Good job, Harry."

"Thanks."

They climbed through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs, with a crackling fire on the opposite side from where they came in. Percy directed the girls through one door and the boys through another.

"Is there an emergency exit anywhere?" asked Harry.

"An emergency exit? Really, Harry, I know you probably want Gryffindor to win the House Cup this year, but we're inside a _tower_. Where can we fit an emergency exit?"

"I don't know, maybe the fireplace?" Harry asked sarcastically.

"The fireplace… oh. Yeah. I'll tell McGonagall that."

"Good."

At the top of a spiral staircase, Harry found their beds. Five four-posters with deep-red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Harry took his trunk out of his mokeskin pouch, pulled on his pajamas, and fell into bed.

"Great food, isn't it?" asked Neville.

"Get _off_, Scabbers! Sorry, my rat is chewing the sheets." Ron said. Harry looked over at him to see an old rat that looked pretty normal. He turned back around again and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N:** I took some descriptions and dialogue from the first Harry Potter book, and altered the scenes. There was not much original content you could create for such a chapter. I will try and make the next chapter as soon as possible. The weekend should help the chapter come out sooner. The next chapter will feature many of Harry's school classes, including regular ones like math and science. He will have a conflict with Draco Malfoy, so stay tuned for that. If you think others would enjoy this story, please share it. If you have a compliment or criticism to give, please do. That's all for now.


	5. Chapter 5: The Duel

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor do I put any claim whatsoever onto Harry Potter. I am making absolutely no profit on this, and I am not making this to gain anything whatsoever.

**A/N:** I had a busy weekend and wasn't able to write, so this story is coming out later than usual. Sorry about that!

**Answering Guest Reviews (in order from oldest to newest):**

1) He would be arrested for suspect of murder. There was no Dark Mark in the sky, so no one would think it was a Death Eater attack. The Ministry would arrest the most likely suspects, including Sirius. Also, they presumably knew about the Potters going in hiding under a Fidelius Charm (Dumbledore knew), so they would think Sirius was the Secret Keeper.

2) That's true.

3) I plan to have the Weasley twins in many chapters of the story. This was just so Harry could get introduced to them without Ron or helping lift the trunk on the Hogwarts Express. If you thought it was a poorly executed plot point, it's your opinion. I'm just saying mine.

4) Snape will meet Harry this chapter. No spoilers for Dumbledore, though. I will do my best to keep writing, too.

5) It's not a continuity error, but thanks for pointing out something that you thought was wrong. Percy would still have a pet rat. You'll notice the words "normal" and "old". There is no mention of any missing toes. This is just a regular old rat that will probably die of old age soon.

* * *

**Chapter 5: The Duel**

Harry was glad that he covered up his scar. When he walked to one of his classes, there were no whispering students, fanboys, or even the paparazzi following him out of the Gryffindor common room and through the halls. As Harry had studied the Marauder's Map thoroughly, he knew where to go to get to his classrooms on time. Hermione and Neville were mostly just following him, but were memorizing their own routes. Surprisingly, there were no maps of Hogwarts anywhere on campus. This must've been another oversight by the school governors.

Overall, Harry had been enjoying his stay at Hogwarts. He had to look through his telescope every Wednesday night at midnight for Astronomy, memorizing the names of different stars and observing the movements and positions of the planets. Three times a week Harry had to go to the greenhouses to study plants with Professor Sprouts, the Herbology teacher, a dumpy little witch who was Head of Hufflepuff House. There they had to take care of many different kinds of magical plants. The first years had encountered no dangerous plants so far, to Harry's relief.

History of Magic was taught by Bathilda Bagshots, who wrote _Hogwarts, A History_, the most recognized history book about Hogwarts, which was also the standardized textbook. Bathilda Bagshot was a very old witch, and often took a long time to move around and talk. Despite this, she was basically a living library of knowledge. She would give a detailed answer to any history question you asked. Hermione practically fawned over her.

Charms was taught by Professor Flitwick, a half-goblin who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. Flitwick had an extensive knowledge of magical spells, as he was previously a Master Duelist. After a short speech, Flitwick made the class try and cast the Wand-Lighting Charm in the dark. Harry, already knowing the spell, received two points for Gryffindor. He had noticed that Flitwick seemed to be very excited around him. By the end of the class, Hermione and a few others had managed to light their wands.

When Harry walked into Transfiguration class, he saw a tabby cat sitting atop Professor McGonagall's desk. Everyone looked around, trying to find their Transfiguration teacher. Knowing she wasn't the kind to keep pets, Harry winked at the cat, who discretely scowled at him. When everyone was seated, the cat transformed into Professor McGonagall, causing a couple of people to shriek. As Harry had predicted, McGonagall was very strict. She immediately gave the class a very stern lecture on the importance of Transfiguration and threatened to kick people out of her class if they misbehaved. She proceeded to turn her desk into a pig and back, and made everyone try to turn a match into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione and Harry had succeeded.

Professor Quirrell turned out to be a sham. There was believed to be a curse on the teaching position, as no teacher had taught the class for more than a year. Those that tried either ended up dead, or in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and injuries. As such, only the disbelieving or the desperate applied for the job. Harry decided that Quirrell was the ladder. Quirrell's classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which was said to protect him from a Romanian vampire he had met. He had on a ridiculous turban which was supposedly given to him by an Arabic prince for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but no one believed him.

"What's on the schedule today?" Harry asked Hermione on Friday, sitting in the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins." Hermione replied. "I heard Snape is biased, but I wouldn't believe it if he wasn't put on probation by the school governors. People say he tends to favor the Slytherins, and will award them with more points in class."

Just then, the mail arrived. Hundreds of owls poured in, delivering all sorts of packages and letters to the various students at Hogwarts. Despite the fact that there were magical phones, everyone still seemed to send letters to people. Harry himself had gotten a couple of letters from Sirius, and was disappointed to see that Hedwig had nothing to deliver. She grabbed a few strips of bacon off of his plate and flew away after nuzzling him affectionately. Harry finished breakfast shortly after and headed down to the dungeons to begin his first Potions class.

Harry stepped into the dungeon and took a seat by Hermione. Neville took one by Seamus Finnigan. Snape walked into class shortly afterward. He took the roll call, and paused at Harry's name. His cold eyes darted around the room, until he settled on Harry.

"Ah, yes," he said softly. "Our new… _celebrity_."

Draco Malfoy laughed with Crabbe and Goyle.

"With all due respect, sir, it's not like I prance around boasting about my feats," said Harry.

Snape's mouth twisted into a sneer. "You do seem to have the cheek, though. One point from Gryffindor!"

Harry closed his mouth to stop himself from retorting. This was mainly because Hermione had kicked him hard in the shin.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began, speaking in a whisper. His aura seemed to keep the class very silent. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harry thought his entire speech was ruined with that last little comment. Hermione looked eager to prove she wasn't a dunderhead.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"The Draught of Living Death." Harry answered calmly. That was one of the first example potions in the beginning of the textbook.

Snape sneered. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"In the potions cupboard." Harry said, who knew fully well what a bezoar was.

"While that may be true, I'm looking for a more specific answer."

"In my mokeskin pouch?"

"You expect me to believe you have a real bezoar?" Snape sneered.

Harry put his hand inside his mokeskin pouch and withdrew his emergency kit. Opening it, he held up his genuine bezoar.

Snape's sneer grew nastier. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Um… that's a trick question. They're both the same thing. I believe they have another name, though. Its… uh… aconite!"

Snape shot Harry the nastiest sneer he could. "Your answers were barely acceptable. However, another point from Gryffindor for your cheek, _again_."

Harry bit back another angry retort. He tried to think of any additional information he had missed. He recalled that asphodel was a type of lily that meant something about regretting, and wormwood meant 'bitter sorrow'. Wait… was Snape…

"Professor Snape?" Harry asked, raising his hand.

"What?" Snape snapped.

"Why do you regret my mother's death?" Harry asked.

Snape looked shocked. An instant later his eyes narrowed. "What makes you think that?"

"Asphodel is a type of lily that means 'my regrets follow you to the grave', and wormwood represents 'bitter sorrow'. You basically said 'I bitterly regret Lily's death. My mother's name was Lily."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. That must be a coincidence." Snape said, his face showing otherwise.

"You know, I don't believe that for a second. I know you had a schoolboy crush on my mother. Sirius told me."

"Two points from Gryffindor! Now stop asking questions!" Snape shouted. Taking a few deep breaths, he recollected himself and carried on with the Potions lesson. Harry decided that he would be keeping a close eye on Snape from now on. The lesson continued, with insults directed at the Gryffindors and compliments thrown to the Slytherins.

In the middle of brewing a simple potion to cure boils, a loud hissing echoed through the dreary dungeons. Neville had somehow melted Seamus's cauldron into a twisted metal blob, and his potion was seeping across the floor, burning holes in people's shoes and the furniture. Within seconds everyone in the class were standing on their stools.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered, boils popping up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing." Snape told Seamus.

"You- Potter- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

"Why would I do that? I'm friends with Neville, for goodness' sake! I was busy making my own potion. I don't believe it is my responsibility to look after every single student in this entire classroom, is it? This is an unreasonable point deduction, and I will be speaking to my Head of House about this. You _are_ on probation, aren't you?" Harry retorted.

For the first time that class, Snape shut up. He probably didn't want to lose his job.

"Fine. I revoke my previous statement." he said snapped.

One hour later, Harry climbed the steps out of the dungeon. He was wondering why Snape regretted his mother's death. He hadn't _killed_ her, had he? Harry shoved that thought to the corner of his mind. Investigating school professors was a surefire way to get expelled. Clearing his head, he realized that he had the rest of the Friday off. He headed to the Gryffindor common room, and proceeded to play a game of wizarding chess with Neville.

"Can I play next game?" asked Hermione, who was already done with her homework.

"Sure." said Harry, contemplating his next move. He traded one of his pawns with Neville, opening up a file for his Rook to move on. He moved one of his Bishops to a better square, and Neville's Knight relocated. A couple of moves later, Neville made a big blunder that allowed Harry to checkmate him with his Queen and Bishop. Hermione traded spots with Neville.

"This is like regular chess, right?" she asked. "I've read all the books about chess tactics and opening positions, and I've played some chess before, but I'm not sure if that's enough."

"Practice makes perfect." Harry said, moving his pawn to e4.

"True, true." Hermione replied, playing the Sicilian defense.

To Harry's surprise, he managed to checkmate Hermione. Apparently she hadn't played a lot of chess before. When they politely set up a second board for Ron to play against them, he easily destroyed everybody. A few hours later they got up and went to dinner. After a meal, not as satisfying as the Great Feast, they went up to the Gryffindor dormitories to do homework and go to sleep. Hermione took out some books on chess and began to study them.

The next day, Harry slept in. There were no classes on the weekends. Waking up, he ate a hearty breakfast, took a morning walk around the school grounds, and played chess and Exploding Snap with Neville and Hermione. Hermione was improving quite a lot in chess. Harry explored some parts of the castle that interested him. As it so happened, there were many unused classrooms in Hogwarts, more so than used ones. Harry noticed that their only purpose during the school year seemed to be for couples to snog privately. Harry studies some of his notes and school textbooks, preparing for some exams or pop quizzes that might come up. The hours passed by in a blur. Finally, around midnight, Fred and George came up to Harry, who was lounging in one of the chairs by the fireplace.

"Hey there, Harry." they said in unison.

"Remember our agreement?" asked Fred.

"Going to show us that room?" George said eagerly.

"Of course. I was waiting for you guys." Harry replied, taking out the Marauder's Map. He quickly checked to find where Filch was. The caretaker and his cat were patrolling the fifth floor. Crawling out of the portrait hole, Harry and the Weasley twins set off down one of the halls.

"Here it is," announced Harry, coming up to the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

"Where?" asked George, peeking behind the tapestry.

"You better not be fooling around with us," said Fred. "We've searched around here before, you know."

"Come on, have some faith in me," said Harry. "All you need to do is pass by here three times when you need to do something."

"Really? We've never tried that." said Fred.

"The room changes based on what you need. It usually becomes a giant storage room." Harry said, walking back and forth three times. An intricate door seemed to materialize out of the wall, to the shock of the Weasley twins. Opening the door up, they stepped inside. The Room was the size of a large cathedral, with high windows overlooking the school grounds. It resembled a city with towering walls, made of broken furniture, thousands and thousands of books, many items restricted by Filch, including Fanged Frisbees, Ever-Bashing Boomerangs, and Screaming Yo-Yos. There were bottles filled with mysterious liquids, dusty jewelry, tattered cloaks and baggy clothes, feathered hats, rusted swords, a heavy, blood-stained axe, a giant stuffed troll, and even some dragon eggshells. The twins gaped at the mess that was the Room of Requirement.

"Think of all the hidden treasure…" George breathed.

"We'd be rich!" said Fred.

"Start our own joke shop!"

"Become entrepreneurs!"

Harry chuckled at their antics. "Let's go, guys."

He led Fred and George out of the Room of Requirement, to their reluctance.

"I feel like getting a snack. Want to come down to the kitchens with me?" asked Harry.

"Oh, yes, definitely!" Fred replied.

"Absolutely! The food they make is _amazing_!" George said.

Climbing down a few flights of the twisting and turning staircases, the trio arrived to the third floor, which was not currently connected to any of the floors below it.

"Wandering around at midnight?" said Peeves, causing them to jump in fright. He was floating behind them. "Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away," said Harry.

"Seriously, Peeves? Go pick on someone your own size!" complained Fred, swiping at him. Harry internally cringed, knowing that was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

"Run!" shouted Harry, who took off down the hallway. They ducked under Peeves and sprinted away. The corridor was a dead end, with a locked door.

"Use the Unlocking Charm!" said Harry.

George pulled out his wand.

"_Alohomora_!" he cried. The trio pushed inside the room, closing it behind them. They heard Filch arrive, seconds behind them.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch asked. "Quick, tell me!"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

"I won't say that!"

"Then I won't tell you!" Peeves trilled.

"All right- _please_."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" he laughed.

Filch left, cursing in rage. The three released pent-up breaths.

"That was a close one!" said Harry.

"Um… guys?" asked George, staring behind them.

Harry turned around. Facing him were the eyes of a monstrous dog, with three heads, who filled the entire room. The beast was currently staring at them with rolling, mad eyes. It sniffed the air with its noses, twitching and quivering. There were three drooling mouths with saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. They seemed to be quite sharp, and looked to be very lethal. This wasn't an empty classroom, this was the forbidden third floor corridor! Harry froze in fear. When the dog started to growl, recovering from its surprise, Harry and the Weasleys groped for the doorknob, threw the door open, and tumbled out hastily. Fred slammed the door behind him and relocked it using his wand. The trio started running as fast as they could, not stopping until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor again. They didn't bother with the kitchens anymore.

"Where on earth have you all been?" asked the Fat Lady.

"Never mind that- pig snout, pig snout." panted Harry.

The painting swung forward, and the trio climbed back inside Gryffindor Tower. They stood there for a moment, catching their breaths. Then they gave each other a meaningful look before heading to bed. _Tell no one_.

* * *

Almost one week later, on a Thursday, Harry spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made everyone groan. Flying lessons would start that afternoon- and Slytherin would be practicing with them.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "The one interesting thing I like to do will be spoiled by a brat like Malfoy boasting about escaping Muggles in helicopters on a broomstick. If he had really done that, he would be awaiting a trial for breaking the Statute of Secrecy. Actually, scratch that, his father would've bribed the officials."

"Sounds about right," muttered Seamus Finnigan.

Neville was currently sweating like crazy. He had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother never let him near one, which Harry secretly agreed on. Harry thought that if Neville had more confidence in himself, he wouldn't be so clumsy. To be fair, Neville had been improving in his classes after he got a new wand from Ollivanders'. He kept his dad's wand as a spare, tucked inside his boot for emergencies.

Hermione Granger was also nervous about flying. Like chess, this was something you couldn't master by reading a book, but she had still tried. Surprisingly, she managed to bore everyone to death at breakfast by reading stupid flying tips from _Quidditch Though the Ages_, a book that wasn't actually boring.

When the daily horde of owls arrived, Harry received another letter from his godfather. A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly, and took out a large glassy marble filled with white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he exclaimed. "Gran always knows I'm forgetful. This turns red when you… forget something…"

The ball had turned red. Neville tried to remember what he had forgotten, until Hermione told him to stop, because he would remember sooner or later. Just then, Draco Malfoy, who was passing by the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of Neville's hand.

Harry jumped to his feet, wand in hand. In a flash, McGonagall was standing next to them. She had a knack for spotting trouble, which must've come hand in hand with her teaching position.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor," said Neville.

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, sloping away with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Ask politely next time!" Harry called after him.

* * *

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry, Hermione, and Nevillle, along with the other first year Gryffindors, headed down the steps onto the school grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass gently swayed beneath their feet as they marched down the sloping green lawns toward a particularly soft patch of grass that must've had a Cushioning Charm on it.

The Slytherins had already arrived, fresh out of the dungeons, standing by twenty broomsticks lying on the soft grass. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, had short, gray hair and yellow, hawk-like eyes.

"Everyone stand by a broomstick," she barked. "Come on, hurry up! If you have your own, you can use that."

Harry took out his Nimbus 2000, as did Malfoy. They didn't want to use the school brooms, which were notorious for having flight problems. They would occasionally vibrate or fly slightly left.

"Anyone that has had experience flying a broom, come over here!" said Hooch. "Everyone completely new, stay over there."

Harry, Seamus, and Ron, along with every single male Slytherin, walked over to Madam Hooch with their broomsticks, setting them on the grass beside them.

"I trust you all know how to use a broomstick, right? Come on, then, mount already!" Hooch said.

"UP!" shouted the boys. Their broomsticks jumped up into their waiting hands. Everyone mounted their broomstick, and Madam Hooch quickly checked them. Apparently Malfoy had been gripping him broomstick wrong for years. Harry secretly jumped with joy. Draco wouldn't be bribing his way onto the Slytherin Quidditch Team this year.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, kick off. Rise no more than twenty feet and come back down." commanded Hooch.

She blew her whistle, and half a dozen broomsticks, along with their riders, rose into the air. After a second or two they came back down steadily. There were no problems. Everyone had been riding broomsticks for years by now. Hooch marched over to the beginners and taught them how to call their broomsticks into their hand.

"Up!" shouted the other students. Hermione's broom just rolled over, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Harry winced internally. Madam Hooch gave everyone careful instructions on how to mount their broom. After checking each row of students like a military general, she lifted the whistle to her mouth.

"On my whistle- three- two-" she counted down.

Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left behind, pushed off the ground hard, before Madam Hooch had fully counted down yet.

"Come back boy!" she shouted, but Neville's broomstick was shooting up like a rocket launched into orbit. Harry drew his wand, just as Neville looked down with a white face and slipped off his broomstick.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" cried Harry. His Levitation Charm missed Neville by a good six inches. He hadn't accounted for Neville's acceleration while falling, nor had he accounted for the fact that he was aiming at a target a good twenty feet away from him horizontally. Neville plummeted to the ground, missing the charmed grass and landing with a thud and a nasty crack. Neville cried out in pain. His broomstick lazily drifted toward the Forbidden Forest, but no one took heed of it.

"Broken wrist," Hooch muttered, examining Harry's fallen friend. "Come on, boy- it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you are to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his broken wrist, hobbled off with her toward the castle. When they were out of earshot, Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined him.

"You shut your mouth!" shouted Harry, wand now pointed at Malfoy.

"What are you going to do, Potter?" Malfoy asked. "Going to curse me? You'll get expelled for that!"

Draco snatched up something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall lit up red, and Malfoy flushed.

"Can't remember it's name, can you, Malfoy? Now put that down!"

"Make me," Draco taunted. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find- how about up a tree?"

"Malfoy, I challenge you to a wizard's duel!" called Harry. Malfoy stopped.

"You can't do that!" shrieked Hermione. "Harry, you'll get expelled!"

"Not if I base it on House politics. After all, the conflict is between House Black, Malfoy, and Longbottom, which are all part of the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight'. Hogwarts holds no jurisdiction over these kind of affairs. What do you say, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"You don't stand a chance. I accept." Malfoy snarled, sizing up his bodyguards. "My second is Crabbe."

"Mine is Hermione," said Harry.

"Wait, me?! What are you two doing?" she said.

"Don't worry. You won't have to do anything unless I die, which won't happen."

"DIE!?"

"I said, don't worry. Neither of us know lethal spells. The duel will be settled by the other person yielding or being incapacitated. We start at the drop of a handkerchief, twenty paces away." Harry told Draco.

"I accept." said Malfoy. "What's the time and place?"

"Right here, right now." Harry responded, pointing to the rocky ground some feet away.

"That's alright by me." said Draco, readying his wand.

"Daphne Greengrass, do you happen to have a handkerchief?" Harry asked, startling the Pureblood witch.

"Why do you ask?" she said.

"You are a Pureblood witch. You ought to have a handkerchief on you at all times. Also, I can't be called out for cheating if a Slytherin holds the handkerchief. Finally, you are also part of the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight', and there would be less political problems with you starting the duel than, say, a Muggleborn." Harry explained.

"Alright, then," she said, having considered Harry's statement. She took out a sky blue silk handkerchief out of a fancy embroidered leather purse, and held the middle of it in her left hand. Harry and Draco moved away from each other, getting into their fighting stances. Draco held his left arm directly in front of him, his right arm, holding his wand, curving behind him and over his head, wand pointed toward his opponent. Harry held his wand arm forward, pointed at Draco, his left arm calmly at his side. They both barely inclined their heads to each other to signify that they were ready.

"You don't stand a chance, Potter. I've been practicing some curses." Malfoy boasted.

"You mean the ones from _Curses and Counter-Curses_? Those aren't even dangerous!" Harry said. "I could beat you using the Levitation Charm!"

Malfoy laughed. "I'd like to see you try!"

"Greengrass, we're ready." Harry told the witch.

Both combatants stopped talking, eyes aimed at the handkerchief. After what seemed like an hour, Daphne Greengrass dropped her handkerchief.

"_Calvorio_!" screamed Draco, the Hair Loss Curse issuing from his wand.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" shouted Harry, who pivoted on his left heel to avoid Malfoy's curse. A branch lying on the ground flew toward Draco's head.

"_Furnunculus_!" yelled Malfoy, ducking under the branch, which bounced off a tree behind him.

Harry leapt to the side to avoid this one. He rolled to recover, narrowly missing the Jelly-Legs Jinx. Taking cover behind a tree, he aimed his wand at a nearby rock.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" cried Harry, lifting the rock into the air.

"_Locomotor Motor_!" shouted Malfoy.

Harry spun around, dodging the spell, and the rock, gathering momentum, smashed into Malfoy's shoulder. The boy shrieked in pain, clutching his broken shoulder, stumbling backward upon the rocky ground.. Casting the Levitation Charm again, a big rock beneath Malfoy's feet shot up, hitting him in the groin. Draco Malfoy crumpled to the ground, moaning in pain, curled up in a ball. Harry lifted another rock up, and stepped toward his opponent.

"Do you yield?" Harry asked.

Draco scowled up at him. "Never."

"Fine. Have it your way."

The rock by Harry's side smashed into Malfoy's forehead, just hard enough to knock him out. None of the rocks that had hit Malfoy would cause any serious harm. Madam Pomfrey could fix him up in no time.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?" shouted the stern voice of McGonagall.

* * *

**A/N: **This chapter took longer than I thought it would. I didn't really have time to work on it that much. Sorry about that. Anyway, I realized that I never wrote about the Gringotts bank robbery in this story. Frankly, I forgot about it. To keep the story the way it is, I'll just say that the news is old gossip by now, and Harry knew about it before school started.

**A/N 2: **The next chapter in this story will feature the first real Ron bashing. This is the point where Harry will become angry at Ron. As Harry already knows about the wizarding world, and Neville can easily become a replacement for Ron, I see no need of real him in this story. He will still show up occasionally in the story, however.


	6. Chapter 6: Troll in the Dungeons!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor do I put any claim whatsoever onto Harry Potter. I am making absolutely no profit on this, and I am not making this to gain anything whatsoever.

**A/N: **I forgot to mention that Harry knew about the Deathly Hallows. His father would've most likely known about its history, as it was passed down from generation to generation. As best friends, James would have told Sirius, family secret or not. He wasn't really good at following the rules, anyways. As Harry was the rightful heir, Sirius would give the Cloak of Invisibility to him, and tell him about it.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Troll in the Dungeons!**

Despite the "incident" during flying lessons, Harry had managed to show up to Quidditch trials and secure a spot as Gryffindor Seeker. There were rumors flying about left, right, and center. Some involved Harry getting his arse handed to by Malfoy, while other people said it was the other way around. Harry didn't tell anyone not at the flying lessons what had really happened, other than Fred and George. That talk also involved a lot of whispering about the giant three-headed dog on the third-floor corridor. They had decided to revisit the place that night. They would watch out for Peeves on the Marauder's Map. Harry had not told them about his Cloak of Invisibility yet. While he didn't really believe the tale, he knew the wisdom in not waving around one of the three Deathly Hallows.

Hermione was pretty miffed yesterday after the duel, but seemed to have calmed down today. She engaged in idle chit chat with Harry and Neville. While munching on a piece of bacon, Harry silently counted down in his head. When he got to "one", the daily parliament of owls arrived. Harry was surprised to find a letter delivered to him. Sirius didn't write him letters on this day. Opening it up, he saw that it was from Oliver Wood, telling him to get to the Quidditch field at seven o'clock in the evening. Harry noted the time in his mental calendar and went back to eating his breakfast.

* * *

It was fifteen minutes till seven when Harry left the castle and set off toward the Quidditch field. The rest of the Quidditch team were already gone. Harry passed by the portrait of Sir Cadogan, who challenged him to a duel. Harry ignored him, and the knight proceeded to follow him through the portraits, down three staircases before Harry finally managed to lose him. Stepping out onto the school grounds, Harry headed in the general direction of the Quidditch stadium. The setting sun painted the grass a shade of orange beneath Harry's feet. Before long, Harry entered the stadium. As he had never been inside before, he looked around. There were hundreds of seats raised in stands around the field, high enough so everyone could see a Quidditch match without the use of binoculars. There were three hoops on each side of the field, which the Quaffle had to pass through to score. Harry spotted Fred and George trying to knock each other off of their broomstick with their Beaters' bats. The Chasers, all of which were female, watched in amusement. Oliver wasn't here yet.

Harry stretched his arm and legs for a quick moment before hopping onto his broomstick and taking off into the air. He flew around the field a couple times and regained his bearings on the steering and handling of his Nimbus 2000. Harry enjoyed the feel of the wind blowing on his face.

"Hey, Potter, come down!" called Oliver Wood, who had finally arrived.

Turning his broomstick around, Harry landed by his teammates. Fred and George didn't look any worse for the wear. Apparently neither of them could hit the other.

"Very nice flying," complimented Wood.

"Alright everyone, let's get started. Most of you know each other, but we have two new members to our team. Well, three if you count Alicia Spinnet. Anyway, this is Katie Bell," said Wood, pointing to one of the girls. "She is our new Chaser. Harry Potter here is our new Seeker."

Harry gave a polite wave.

"Alicia Spinnet has been promoted from reserve player to Chaser. For you new people, I'll introduce everyone else. I am Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Our two other chasers are Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell. Our Beaters are Fred and George Weasley." Oliver continued.

"Anyways, we have a very strong team this year. One of the best, if I may say so myself. But however good we may be, we still have one thing we have to do. Practice. If we do that, we're going to win the Quidditch Cup this year. I know it. If we get a feel for each other's abilities and skills, and work accordingly, then we will be unstoppable. With the right training, we will succeed. We are Gryffindors, and we won't lose this Cup!" shouted Oliver.

"We will have practices three evenings a week. I expect all of you to show up for every single one. That includes you two." He directed his words to the Weasley twins. "No matter the weather, no matter the conditions, we will persevere and work ourselves to the bone. This is the only way we can improve in our training. I think that's enough talk. Everyone, start flying!"

Harry rose up into the air. Oliver Wood brought out a big case that contained the Quaffle, two Bludgers, and the Golden Snitch. It was time to start practicing.

* * *

Harry, Fred, and George were huddled around the Marauder's Map. They had just finished their Quidditch practice, and it was dark outside. They had decided to visit the room now, so they had an excuse to be up so late. They checked the map for Peeves and Filch. Both were on the fifth floor. The trio made their way up a spiral staircase.

"Have you guys been doing any pranks lately?" asked Harry.

"No," whispered Fred.

"We've had too much homework," added George.

"This early in the year?" asked Harry, surprised.

"Yeah. You should see what Snape gives us." said Fred.

"That git made us write a ten page essay on Shrinking Solutions!" George whisper-shouted.

"Maybe you should prank Snape, then." said Harry.

"His office is magically protected." replied Fred.

"Besides, he'd know it's us." George explained.

"Then go prank Draco." Harry told them.

"The blond stuck-up brat?" asked Fred.

"The one who prances through the halls?" George added.

"Yeah, that one." said Harry.

"What should we do?" wondered Fred.

"Make him look like a girl?" suggested Harry.

"That gag gets old fast," replied Fred.

"We would know. We've done that particular stunt a few times by now." said George.

"So something original, then?" asked Harry.

"That'd be appreciated." George replied.

"I'll try and think of something," said Harry. "I'll tell you later. Besides, we're here."

They had arrived on the third floor. The trio checked the Marauder's Map once again. Once they had confirmed that no one was here to get them caught, they headed down one of the passages, toward the forbidden corridor. Arriving at what they thought was the correct door, Harry tried the doorknob. Like last time, it was locked. Fred cast a quick Unlocking Charm.

"Seems odd, isn't it?" asked Fred.

"What do you mean?" said Harry.

"Why would something so dangerous be hidden by a simple locked door?" said George, who knew what Fred meant.

"You're right," said Harry. "That's odd. It's almost like Dumbledore wants someone to walk in here!"

Nobody laughed. After an awkward silence, Harry twisted the doorknob and opened the door. With their wands out, the trio peeked inside. The three-headed dog was still there, but hadn't seemed to have noticed them yet. The Weasley twins had put a silencing charm on everyone, and a spell that blocked a person's scent. The dog must have had bad eyesight.

Peering inside, Harry looked around the large room. It was pretty empty. He looked up at the ceiling and then the floor. Just when he thought the room was empty, he noticed what appeared to be a trapdoor on the floor. He backed out of the room and shut the door.

"The room's mostly empty. All I see is that giant dog and a trapdoor." he said.

"A trapdoor?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, a trapdoor."

"So the dog's guarding something?" asked George.

"I think so," replied Harry.

"Do you think we should try and get past the dog?" asked Fred.

"It's too dangerous. Let's cut our losses and get the heck out of here," said Harry.

"If only we had a way to get past that dog…" mused Fred.

The trio checked the Marauder's Map once more, and headed toward the seventh floor.

"Hey, I know how to prank Malfoy," said Harry. The twins turned to look at him.

* * *

Harry was munching on a slice of treacle tart, trying to look as casual as possible. Draco Malfoy was glaring at him from the Slytherin table. Fred and George were also trying their best to act as innocent as possible, but they couldn't help but steal the occasional glance at Malfoy. No one seemed to notice their odd behavior.

When the owls arrived, everyone noticed a bright red envelope carried by an owl. Everyone who had grown up in a magical family eyed the letter warily. The owl flew toward the Slytherin table, to the relief of the other Houses. The envelope was deposited onto Draco Malfoy's plate. The boy in question appeared to be rapidly turning into a snowman. All the other Slytherins quickly scooted away from the boy, who was looking around frantically. Harry tried to hide the grin from his face. Suddenly, the Howler exploded, and the voice of Narcissa Malfoy echoed around the Great Hall.

"DRACO MALFOY!" she shrieked. "YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF! DUELLING THE BOY WHO LIVED! AND YOU _LOST_! DID ALL YOUR FATHER'S TRAINING GO TO WASTE?! YOU COULD HAVE DIED! IF YOU HAD KILLED HIM, THE ENTIRE WIZARDING WORLD WOULD HAVE YOUR HEAD! YOUR FATHER IS THINKING OF DISOWNING YOU! YOU RIGHT US AN APOLOGY, OR YOU WON'T HAVE ANY PARENTS TO WRITE ONE TO!"

The howler finished its message, and burst into flame, until it was a pile of ashes. Draco Malfoy, hair smoking, leapt up from the Slytherin table and scurried away as fast as he could, amidst the laughter directed at him. Harry, Fred, and George were laughing so hard that they couldn't breath for a moment. Harry shot the Weasley twins a discrete thumbs up. Mission accomplished.

* * *

The next day, an actual Howler from Narcissa Malfoy arrived. Draco Malfoy picked up the letter and lobbed it across the hall like a grenade. The Ravenclaw table quickly evacuated. Again, the letter exploded, and an angry voice shouted at Malfoy.

"DRACO MALFOY!" Narcissa shrieked. "DID YOU DUEL THE BOY WHO LIVED?! WHERE IS YOUR HONOR?! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED! OUR FAMILY COULD HAVE BEEN DISGRACED! YOUR FATHER AND I WILL BE HAVING A TALK WITH YOU WHEN YOU GET HOME FOR WINTER BREAK! AND YOU BETTER BEHAVE! IF WE HEAR ONE MORE BAD THING ABOUT YOU, WE _WILL_ DISOWN YOU!"

A scared and confused Malfoy ran from the Great Hall for the second time in a row. He didn't come to breakfast the next day, or the next. He was the school laughingstock for the rest of the month.

* * *

It had been over a month since Harry had started practicing Quidditch. It was difficult to juggle around his homework and Quidditch practice, but he managed it. His lessons were becoming more interesting as the year progressed, once everyone had learned the basics. While the lessons were still mostly easy, Hermione had beaten Harry as the best student in their year. Sirius had mostly trained Harry on duelling and casting spells, and Snape continued to deduct points from Harry. Herbology was not one of Harry's strong suits, but Hermione had no problem with it.

Harry had noticed that Neville was steadily improving in his magic. He was quickly becoming more confident in his abilities, and classroom accidents were at an all time low. It had been three weeks since Neville had blown up one of his potions, or have his wand backfire on him. His memory was getting better, too. He no longer fell through the trick step in one of the staircases, and he didn't need his Remembrall anymore.

Harry woke on Halloween morning, a bit sad. This was the anniversary of his parent's death. He cautiously got dressed. Something bad had always happened to him on Halloween. Some incidents to note were when he had broken his nose when flying on a broomstick, which had also broken, he had burned himself when he knocked over a frying pan full of oil, and when he had fallen down the stairs and sprained his right ankle. Harry took a calming breath, and finally noticed the delicious aroma of baking pumpkin. He headed down to the common room.

"Is something wrong?" asked Hermione, who was sitting in one of the chairs by the fireplace, reading a book.

"Nothing," said Harry.

"Come on, what's the matter?" Hermione said, with a slight frown on her face.

Harry sighed. "Today's the anniversary of my parent's death."

"Oh," said Hermione. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." replied Harry. "I've gotten over that. It's just that, every Halloween, something bad happens to me. I usually get injured accidentally, or something important to me gets lost, or destroyed."

"That doesn't mean something bad will happen today," said Hermione. "It could be pure coincidence. Or maybe you just notice when something bad happens today because you think that it will happen."

"Maybe," said Harry, not convinced. Hermione dropped the subject.

"What's the schedule today?" asked Harry.

"We have Charms in an hour. We're learning the Levitation Charm. Of course, you already know it. I've tried it a couple times, and I can lift small objects. We should help Neville, you know."

"Speaking of Neville, where is he?" asked Harry.

"He's already eating breakfast. He thought the food would be as good as the one at the Great Feast."

"But I thought the feast was for dinner," said Harry, confused.

"I told him that, but he wanted to make sure."

"Oh, ok. Do you want to get breakfast right now?" asked Harry.

"I suppose so." said Hermione, tilting her head slightly. She grabbed her bookmark and placed it on the designated page, then put the book into her handbag. She got up, and walked with Harry into the Great Hall. Neville was waiting for them.

"Hey," he said. "We're learning the Levitating Charm in Flitwick's class today. Hermione, how do you pronounce the spell again?"

"It's Wing-_gar-_dium Levi-_o_-sa. Make the 'gar' nice and long."

"Wing-_gar-_dium Leviosa." repeated Neville.

"Put some emphasis on the 'o'."

"Wing-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa." said Neville.

"There you go." said Hermione. "Do you need to remember the wand movement, too?"

Neville took out his wand, and tried to do the correct movement. After trying a couple of times, Hermione stepped in to help him again. Harry watched them as he took a bite of buttered toast.

"Hey Hermione, going to eat or not?" he asked after a while. Neville had memorized the pronunciation and wand movement by now. Hermione was just watching him carefully.

"What? Oh, yeah!" she said, looking over at the food. She placed a few sausages and eggs onto her plate, and spread a thin layer of jam onto a slice of bread. Neville was still practicing his wand movement, and Harry munched on a slice of treacle tart.

After they had finished eating, the trio engaged in idle chit chat until they had to go to Charms. Professor Flitwick split them into pairs, and Harry was partnered with Seamus Finnigan. Neville was paired with Dean Thomas, and Ron Weasley sat next to Hermione. Harry had noticed that the boy seemed to dislike Hermione. Harry assumed he was either jealous of her or thought she was an obnoxious know-it-all. Maybe it was a combination of the two.

Professor Flitwick reminded the class of the wand movement necessary to perform the spell. A swish, and a flick. The class proceeded to swish and flick like maniacs. Harry and Hermione performed the spell on the first try, and Neville did it after eight or so tries. Harry tried to help Seamus with his spell, and the boy managed to perform the Levitation Charm after a few dozen tries and a fiery incident. Ron Weasley, at the other table, seemed to be having trouble.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" he shouted, windmilling his arms.

"I told you, you're saying it wrong!" snapped Hermione. "You make the 'gar' nice and long, and you put emphasis on the 'o' in 'leviosa'."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me what to do. If Charlie could use this wand, then so can I!"

"Charlie?" asked Harry, leaning over toward them. "Isn't that your brother?"

"Yes," said Ron. "he's the second oldest in the family. This was his old wand."

"What's it made of?" asked Harry. Hermione's eyes widened. She knew what he was thinking of.

"Ash and unicorn hair."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

"Did you say ash?" Hermione said.

"What did you think I said?" replied an irritated Ron.

"An ash wand should never be passed from one wizard to another. It is extremely loyal to its first owner, and may be harder to use for someone else. The same thing applied to unicorn hair, but on a lesser scale." explained Hermione. "You need to get a new wand."

"Yeah? Well, I don't believe you." said Ron. "Besides, my family can't affor- I mean, they won't buy me a new wand, anyway."

"Have it your way," huffed Hermione. "Don't tell me I didn't say so."

"I won't," said Ron confidently, going back to the lesson. He scowled at Hermione for the rest of the class, and didn't manage to do the Levitation Charm. He was in a very bad mood by the end of the class. Harry accidentally knocked his schoolbag over, and had to put everything back in. Neville stayed behind with him. He was one of the last ones out of the classroom.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," muttered Ron, loud enough for everyone to hear. "She's a nightmare, honestly. She's an ugly stuck-up know-it-all. Her 'friends' only want her to get good grades. Her bushy hair is _hideous_, and her front teeth make her look like a rabbit. She doesn't deserve to go to Hogwarts. She should go die in a hole." (**A/N: **In the first book, Hermione didn't have friends, so she would have been a bit emotionally unstable. In this story, calling her a "nightmare" wouldn't cause her to run away and have an emotional breakdown. I had to make Ron say something meaner. I dislike Ron, but don't _hate_ him. You shouldn't insult someone like this in any case whatsoever. I did this for plot purposes, not because I hate any Harry Potter characters.)

Harry saw Hermione push her way through the crowd, and run away, sobbing.

"Hermione!" shouted Harry, chasing after her. He shot Ron the angriest glare he could. He wanted to hex the boy, but Hermione was more important. Neville tried to keep up with Harry, but couldn't. Harry kept calling after Hermione, but when he turned a corner, she was nowhere to be seen.

"Hermione!" he called. There was no answer. He tried listening for sobbing sounds, but couldn't. He was about to pull out the Marauder's Map when Neville arrived, huffing and puffing.

"Where'd she go?" he asked, catching his breath.

"I don't know," said Harry. "Where do girls go when they cry?"

"How would I know? I'm not a girl." said Neville.

"Do we have time to look for her until the next class?" wondered Harry.

"Not if we don't know where she is," replied Neville.

"You go on ahead. I'll look for her anyway." Harry decided.

"You sure about that?" asked Neville anxiously.

"Yeah. You go on ahead." repeated Harry.

"Okay, then. Don't be late if you don't have to be." said Neville with a parting wave.

Harry cast a quick spell to see the time. There was half an hour until the next class. Looking around to make sure he was alone, he pulled out the Marauder's Map. Hermione was in the girls' bathroom on the first floor. Harry memorized the directions there, and closed the Marauder's Map. He set off toward Hermione.

When Harry arrived at the bathroom, he put his ear to the door. He heard Hermione sobbing inside.

"Hey, Hermione?" called Harry. "You alright in there?"

The sobbing continued.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" Harry asked.

"G-g-go a-away," Hermione sobbed.

"Are you sure about that? I'm here if you need me." said Harry.

"J-j-just l-leave m-m-me a-alone." Hermione cried.

"Are you really sure about that?" Harry checked.

"Y-y-yes. J-just g-go a-a-away," Hermione wept.

"Okay, then." said Harry reluctantly. "Class starts in thirty minutes."

"I-I d-don't c-c-care," Hermione sobbed.

"Just remember, I'm still your friend, no matter what that git says." Harry told her. "I'll take my leave now."

Harry left Hermione in the bathroom. He felt like a terrible person for not being with her, even though she had told him to go away. In a dejected mood, Harry traveled to his pre-algebra class. Hermione didn't come to the class, which was a first. She didn't come to the Great Feast either, with its thousands of live bats and floating jack-o'-lanterns. Harry didn't eat much. Ron's bad mood seemed to have abated, and he seemed to be embarrassed when he overheard Parvati Patil tell Lavender Brown that Hermione was crying in the girls' bathroom, and wanted to be left alone. Neville was shooting constant glares at Ron, who didn't seem to have noticed.

About to take a half-hearted bite of baked potato, the doors to the Great Hall burst open. Professor Quirrel, turban askew, sprinted into the hall, terror written on every inch of his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair. Quirrel slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll- in the dungeons- thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy was in his element.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"We need to warn Hermione!" Harry told Neville frantically.

"She'll be fine. The troll's in the dungeons, remember?" said Neville.

"You don't understand! Every Halloween, something happens to me or something I like! I've broken my nose and my broomstick, sprained my ankle, and got burned by oil! I bet you anything I'll either get attacked by a troll, or someone I know will!" explained Harry.

Neville's eyes widened. "Really? Then what are we waiting for?!"

Ducking down, the two boys joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard footsteps. Harry pulled Neville into an empty classroom. Peering out the window, they saw Snape cross the corridor and disappear from view.

"What's he doing?" asked Harry. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the staff?"

"How would I know?" replied Neville. "Cmon, we need to go find Hermione."

The boys exited the classroom and crept down the corridor.

"He's headed for the third floor," said Harry.

"What's that smell?" asked Neville, sniffing the air.

The two boys heard a low grunt and the sound of giant feet shuffling around. At the end of the passage, to their left, a giant figure loomed out of the shadows. Harry and Neville backed into a shadowy corner, out of sight.

A twelve feet tall troll, with a dull, granite-gray skin, resembling a boulder with a coconut for a head, legs thick as tree trunks, with horny, flat feet, and a putrid smell, was dragging a humongous wooden club behind it. The monster peered inside a doorway, and slouched into the room.

"Let's lock it inside!" whispered Harry, edging toward the door. With one great leap, he managed to grab the key, slam the door shut, and lock it. He backed away, casting a Locking Charm on the door, just to be safe. He levitated a large, stone griffin in front of the door to barricade it.

Jubilant with victory, Harry did a little happy dance.

"Now, where's Hermione?" he asked.

In answer, a high-pitched scream resounded around the corridor, emanating from the room they had just locked up. The boys paled.

"_Hermione_!" they said together.

Harry levitated the griffin away, while Neville unlocked the door using the key (**A/N: **A Locking Charm just locks the door using magic. A key can be used to unlock it). The two boys burst inside. Hermone Granger was shrinking against the wall opposite of them, looking like she was going to faint.

"_Flipendo_!" roared Harry, pointing his wand at the troll looming over his friend. The troll was violently flipped over, crashing into the wall and narrowly missing Hermione. The club was knocked out of its hand, which skidded across the room. Neville tried to kick it away, but just stubbed his toe. The troll shook its head to regain its bearings.

"Run, Hermione!" shouted Harry. Hermione was paralyzed with fear, and couldn't move.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" cried Harry, and he levitated Hermione away from danger.

"_I-Incendio_!" stuttered Neville. A burst of flame shot out of his wand, but passed harmlessly over the troll's durable skin.

"_Diffindo_!" shouted Harry. The Severing Charm slashed the beast's right arm. The troll roared in pain, and charged Harry. Harry dove out of the way of the oncoming troll, which shattered a mirror and destroyed two sinks.

"_Diffido_!" Neville tried to repeat what Harry had said. He shouted in pain, dropping his wand, which had turned red hot. Neville had mispronounced the spell, and had suffered the consequences (**A/N: **If buffalos can appear out of thin air, then you can get burned by a wand if you mispronounce a spell).

"_Diffindo_!" shouted Harry. A large gash appeared on the beast's chest. The troll staggered back a bit, before spotting its club. It picked it up, and started swinging erratically.

"_Incendio_!" shouted Neville, trying to burn the club. He succeeded, and now the troll was swinging around a flaming club.

"_Diffindo_! _Diffindo_! _DIFFINDO_!" shouted Harry. The troll received a laceration on its thigh, then another one on its chest, creating a red X, and the last one appeared to have just barely missed the troll's neck. A moment later, McGonagall burst into the room, along with Snape and Quirrell.

The troll's head toppled off of its shoulders at that exact moment. The headless body fell to the ground, shattering a couple of tiles. The teachers stared in shock, looking from the troll to Harry, the troll to Harry. They only stopped staring when they noticed a dark red puddle collecting around their feet. McGonagall Transfigured the dead troll into a small, gray marble, which rolled on the ground. She had also gotten rid of the liquid.

"What on earth were you thinking?" she asked. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

"We went to warn Hermione. She was crying in the bathroom." Harry replied.

"May I ask why?" asked McGonagall evenly.

"Ron insulted me after Charms. He called me 'an ugly, stuck-up know-it-all', and proceeded to degrade my appearance. He ended it by saying I didn't deserve to go to Hogwarts, and that I should go die in a hole." said Hermione.

"Is that why you didn't show up to your pre-algebra class?" asked McGonagall. "I will be having a talk with that boy. That is unacceptable school behavior. Why did he call you that, anyway?"

"He couldn't cast the Levitation Charm in class, while I did it first try. I tried to help him, but he brushed me off." Hermione explained.

"That is totally unacceptable. I will be having a talk with his parents, and he may get expelled from Hogwarts."

"_Expelled_?" asked Hermione.

"Yes. What's wrong?" asked McGonagall.

"Well, he hurt my feelings, yes, but I don't think he should be expelled for that!" protested Hermione.

"But you were crying in here for most of the day," McGonagall replied, confused.

"I know that, but I may have overreacted a bit."

"That's not true."

"Well, punish him in some other way, then. I just don't want to be the cause of someone being expelled. Forgive and forget, right?

"_Forget_? You were almost killed by a mountain troll, for goodness' sake!"

"Ron didn't know that. Please, just don't expel him."

"Fine, alright. I will still be having a talk with his parents."

"That's okay. I just didn't want someone to be expelled, no matter how bad they were."

"That's fine. Five points to Gryffindor, for doing what you think is right." said McGonagall. She turned back to Harry and Neville.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first-years could have taken down a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor twenty points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

The trio hurried out of the chamber, not speaking until they had climbed two floors up. After giving the password to the Fat Lady, they entered the Gryffindor common room. Everyone was busy eating food that had been brought up from the kitchen, but paused when they saw the trio enter.

"Where were you guys?" asked Percy. "You should've been up here minutes ago!"

"Ask McGonagall," said Harry.

"McGonagall? What does she have to do with this?" Percy persisted.

"I told you, ask McGonagall," Harry repeated. "If you don't have any more questions for me, I'm going to bed now. I'm bone-weary."

Pushing through the crowd of people, Harry, Neville, and Hermione headed toward their dormitories.

"Well, that was eventful," Harry said.

* * *

**A/N: **I didn't really have time to work on this that much. I just relaxed during Labor Day. You guys should expect a chapter every week or so. I'll try to make them faster, but no guarantees.

**A/N 2:** Again, those insults by Ron were for plot purposes. I am not making him _that_ horrible.


	7. Chapter 7: Quidditch and Conspiracies

**Chapter 7: Quidditch and Conspiracies**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor do I put any claim whatsoever onto Harry Potter. I am making absolutely no profit on this, and I am not making this to gain anything whatsoever.

**Answering Guest Reviews**

1) sakurasucks, that is part of the reason why I did get rid of Ron. His role in the plot could easily be replaced by Neville Longbottom, who would be a better friend and wouldn't be a bad influence on Harry. Harry will still follow "Dumbledork", as you call the old man, but will do so skeptically and cautiously.

* * *

As the school year entered November, the Quidditch season started. Harry's first match would be Saturday, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Harry was indifferent to the praise and encouragement from his fellow Gryffindors, and the taunts and insults coming from the Slytherins. He just focused on doing his homework and practicing for the upcoming Quidditch match.

Harry had noticed that Hermione had become more relaxed about rule breaking, at least for Harry and Neville. She could occasionally be heard berating the Weasley twins after they did a prank. Harry was too busy with his homework to help them with anything.

He was lucky he had Hermione to help him with his homework. Although he was better with casting spells than Hermione was, she was much better at writing five-page essays, mapping the stars, and tending to the various plants in Herbology. She was also better than him with subjects like math and science. The only thing she was really terrible at was flying. She had improved in her chess skills a lot, and could beat Harry and Neville.

The day before Harry's Quidditch match, Harry and his friends noticed that Snape had was now walking with a limp while they were standing in the freezing courtyard during break. Hermione quickly hid the blue fire they were carrying around in a small bottle, as they were sure it was against school rules. Snape noticed them, and proceeded to limp toward them. He seemed to be vying for an excuse to deduct some points from Gryffindor. When he noticed that one of the boys standing outside was Harry, he sneered, and quickly changed directions again.

"What's wrong with his leg?" Harry muttered to Hermione.

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Neville, who didn't get along with Snape at all.

The trio of friends hurried back inside for their next class. Time seemed to fly by, and before they knew it, it was already evening. Harry was double-checking his Charms homework by the fireplace, while Hermione was helping Neville on a couple of the harder questions. The Gryffindor common room was particularly noisy today. Getting bored, Harry discretely checked the Marauder's Map. Snape was conversing with Filch in the teacher's staff lounge. Curious, he got up.

"Where are you going?" asked Hermione.

"I'm feeling a bit restless. I'll take a short walk around the castle." Harry replied. He didn't like lying, so he normally stuck to half-truths. He didn't want to reveal the existence of the Marauder's Map or the Cloak of Invisibility to his friends just yet.

"Try not to get in trouble," said Hermione.

"Stay away from Snape," called Neville. "I think he's in a bad mood. We don't want to lose any unnecessary House points."

Harry gave them a quick thumbs up, then exited the portrait hole. Percy had told him that Gryffindor Tower would get fixed during Christmas break. Everyone seemed glad about this, as everyone had sustained some injury or another climbing through it, whether they hit their head on the low ceiling, scraped their knee on a bit of rock, or fell out of the portrait hole face-first.

Harry traveled down a dozen flights of steps, making his way down to the staffroom. He put on his Cloak of Invisibility to avoid detection, and pressed his ear against the doorknob. Snape had not thought to put a Silencing Charm on the room. Wanting a view of the situation, Harry tried peeking through the keyhole. To his relief, the medieval door had a keyhole that opened into the room behind it.

Harry saw Snape holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.

"Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Harry's eyes widened. Was Snape talking about the giant three-headed dog on the third floor? Maybe that was where Snape went during Halloween! Maybe Snape had released the troll into the castle. Harry tried to suppress his rising anger. He had no definite proof, and couldn't convict Snape of anything. He took a deep breath, and listened in on the conversation again.

"How did Hagrid manage to capture that behemoth? Unless McGonagall Transfigured it into something, I doubt even that giant oaf could wrestle that beast. He must have some way of keeping it docile. I have to convince him-"

Harry saw some movement in the corner of his eye. Turning slowly, he saw Peeves gliding past. The poltergeist was sprinkling a bag of dust all over the halls, probably to infuriate Filch. Harry silently watched Peeves leave, who was quietly cackling to himself. Suddenly, Harry felt an urge to sneeze. He clamped a hand to his nose, trying to prevent himself from sneezing. It didn't help. Harry tried to pull out his wand to cast a quick Silencing Charm on himself, but he couldn't reach it in time.

"Ah-choo!" Harry partially muffled his sneeze by clenching his jaw and covering his nose with his hands. He heard the conversation inside the staffroom pause.

"Did you hear something?" asked Flich.

Snape put a finger to his lips, quietly getting up and moving toward the door. Harry quickly fled. As he was hastily climbing up a spiral staircase, he first heard the door to the staffroom burst open, then the angry voice of Snape shouting from down the passageway.

"There's footsteps in the dust! Someone was here!"

* * *

By eleven o'clock the next day, the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch, many holding binoculars to see better. While the stands were tall enough so that people could actually see the game being played, it was hard to make out specifics.

As a surprise, Neville and Hermione had painted a large banner proclaiming Potter for President, and Dean had drawn a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Hermione had enchanted the banner to make the paint flash different colors.

Meanwhile, in the backroom, Harry and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes.

Oliver Wood cleared his throat for silence.

"OK, men," he said.

"And women," said Chaser Angelina Johnson.

"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."

"The big one," said Fred Weasley.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry. "We were in the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," said Wood. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

He glared at them all as if to say, "Or else."

"Right. It's time. Good luck to all of you."

Harry followed the Weasley twins out onto the Quidditch field, amidst a sea of cheering.

Madam Hooch was the referee.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she said. Harry scoffed with Fred and George. Madam Hooch appeared to be speaking particularly to Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch captain. Harry noticed his friends waving the Potter for President banner over in the stands. He suddenly felt a lot braver.

"Mount your brooms, please," commanded Madam Hooch. Blowing on her silver whistle, everyone rose up into the air, referee included. The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary, closely watched by a stern Professor McGonagall.

"And the Quaffle is immediately taken by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

While Jordan commentated, Harry watched the Gryffindor Chaser speed down the field from atop his broomstick. He was hovering over the match, waiting for a sight of the Snitch. Angelina passed the ball to Alicia Spinnet, and when the girl tried to return the ball, Marcus Flint intercepted it. Harry grimanced as the lead Slytherin Chaser flew across the field, unopposed. He had too big of a lead for the Chasers to turn around and chase after him, and the Weasley twins were currently having a Bludger battle with the Slytherin Beaters.

Harry cheered when Oliver Wood managed to make a spectacular dive from the right hoop to block the Quaffle from entering the left hoop when Flint feinted with the ball. Katie Bell snatched the ball, but was hit in the back of the head halfway across the field by a Bludger hit from one of the enemy Beaters. A Slytherin Chaser called Adrian Pucey grabbed the Quaffle, which Katie had accidentally dropped, and sped off toward the goalposts. George Weasley blocked his path with the second Bludger, and Johnson hit the ball out of Pucey's hands when he swerved to avoid the black ball, losing his speed.

Angelina narrowly dodged a Bludger and raced off toward the Slytherin goalposts. Slytherin Keeper Bletchley dived for the Quaffle when Angelina tossed it, but miscoordinated the flight path of the ball, which flew through one of the hoops.

"GRYFFINDOR SCORES!" shouted Jordan, who was still commentating. Harry had zoned out watching the game, and hadn't heard a word Lee Jordan had spoken during the Quidditch game. He cheered loudly, cupping his hands around his mouth to amplify the noise, gripping the broom tightly with his legs.

Down amongst the crowd, a familiar figure walked up to Neville and Hermione.

"Budge up there, move along." said Hagrid.

"Oh, sorry," said Hermione politely, squeezing next to Neville to make room for the gargantuan man. Neither of them knew Hagrid that well.

"Bin' watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck. "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Neville. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet. Its ten to zero, by the way."

"I heard." said Hagrid, peering through his oversized binoculars.

Harry was currently doing a couple of loop-the-loops to let off his feelings. He went back to staring for the Snitch. Once he saw a reflection off of one of the Weasleys' wristwatches, and almost sped after it. He stopped himself before he could, however. The only real exciting part of the match so far was when a Bludger tried to pummel him. Harry easily dodged it, and proceeded to act like a picador, getting the Bludger's attention and dodging it. Fred Weasley soon came to hit the Bludger toward Marcus Flint.

Harry watched Adrian Pucey duck two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, speeding toward the Gryffindor goalposts. Suddenly, a flash of gold passed by Pucey's ear. Surprised, he accidentally let go of the ball. In a great rush of excitement Harry dived downward after the streak of gold. The Slytherin Seeker, Terrance Higgs, was right on his tail. After everyone watched the two players zoom around, they regained their bearings and grabbed the Quaffle again.

Harry's was gaining on the Snitch, due to his superior broomstick. Harry tried to cut off the Snitch when it rounded one of the goalposts, now only a few feet away from it. Putting on an extra spurt of speed, Harry reached out his arm, and-

WHAM!

A roar of rage echoes from the Gryffindors below- Marcus Flint had crashed into Harry on purpose, to prevent him from catching the Snitch and winning the game. Harry's broom spun off course, and when Harry regained control of it, he flipped Flint off before checking his broomstick for any damage. There wasn't a scratch on the magically-resistant wood.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

"Send him off, ref! Red card, red card!" hollered Dean Thomas.

"Dean, this isn't football, this is Quidditch!" Hermione told him.

"Oh, right," said Dean Thomas, blushing in embarrassment.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint, who made up a lame excuse. Hooch didn't but it, and ordered a free shot at the Slytherin goalposts. Alicia Spinnet took the Quaffle and scored, putting Gryffindor in the lead, 20-0. The Snitch had disappeared.

"So- after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-" said Lee Jordan.

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"

"Jordan, I'm warning you-"

"All right, all right." Jordan finally amended, and went back to commentating again.

Harry flew around, looking for any sign of the Snitch. He dodged another Bludger that flew toward him with practiced ease, Suddenly, his broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, he thought he was going to fall. He gripped the broom tightly with both his hands and knees. He'd never felt anything like that. What was going on?

It happened again. Harry thought the broom was trying to buck him off. Was someone jinxing his broomstick? He tried to turn his broomstick around to ask Wood to call a time-out, but realized he couldn't control his broomstick at all. Lee was still commentating, drowning out any words Harry tried to shout. Harry's broomstick lurched around, zigzagging through the air, suddenly dropping, and making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him. Harry didn't know how to counteract this particular jinx. It wasn't in Curses and Countercurses, that was for sure. Desperate, Harry pulled out his wand, which had managed not to fall out of the wrist holster he had.

"Sonorous!" he cried, pointing at himself.

"SABOTAGE! SABOTAGE! SOMEONE'S JINXED MY BROOM!" shouted Harry, his voice amplified by the spell.

Everyone turned to look at the Gryffindor Seeker. Just then, Harry's broom started to roll over and over. When it gave a wild jerk, Harry swung off the broom, dangling from only one hand. He quickly slipped his wand back into his holster, and grabbed the bucking broomstick with his other hand. He tried to pull himself back onto the broom, but it violently twisted around once more. Madam Hooch called a time-out.

"Is someone really jinxing Harry's broom right now?" asked Seamus.

"I hope not," said Hagrid, his voice shaking. "Not much can harm a Nimbus Two Thousand, 'cept powerful Dark magic."

Hermione grabbed Hagrid's binoculars and scanned the crowd.

"What are you doing?" asked Neville.

"Looking for the culprit," answered Hermione. To her surprise, she spotted two people staring at Harry unwaveringly, muttering to themselves. They were Quirrel and Snape. Scanning the rest of the Quidditch stands, she knew one of them must be jinxing Harry's broomstick.

"Obscuro," she muttered, pointing her wand at Snape. The Potions Master, who was too busy staring at Harry, didn't see the spell coming his way. Before he knew it, there was a blindfold covering his eyes. Confused, Snape looked around, accidentally hitting someone in the face. The person in question, with an obvious distaste for the man, pushed him over, causing him to go down in a tangle with two other spectators.

Looking back up at Harry, she saw that the broom was now rocking even more violently. The Weasley twins were circling under Harry, ready to catch him. The Slytherins acted like they were trying to help, but in reality weren't doing anything. Whenever Madam Hooch tried to grab Harry, the broomstick would jerk away from her. Eventually she gave up, and joined the Weasleys in preparing to catch him.

The broomstick violently jerked up, and Harry, still dangling by his two arms, was flung a good two feet into the air. Amazingly, he managed to grab his broomstick on the way down before it had a change to move away. The end of the broomstick tilted downward from the sudden weight, almost causing Harry to slide off the end of it.

"Obscuro!" cried Hermione, pointing at Quirrel.

Snape was still on the ground, dazed, his blindfold removed, a big black bruise on his forehead from a thrashing leg that had accidentally kicked him. Quirrell also received a blindfold, which, after a moment of confusion, tore off. He ducked another incoming spell, and fled from the stands. Hermione couldn't get off another clear shot at him as he escaped. Harry climbed back onto his broomstick, and after Madam Pomfrey checked him for injuries, the game was resumed, still 20-0. Hermione considered chasing after Quirrell, but he had too much of a head start, being on the opposite end of the stadium. She watched to exits for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor to return, but he never did.

Harry, a bit jolted after his rodeo session, tried to find the Snitch once more. After a couple minutes of dodging Bludgers and interrupting plays made by the Slytherin Chasers, he caught a flash of gold, this time not from one of the Weasley's watches. Still a tiny bit disoriented, Harry sped of after the Snitch. Terrance Higgs, who had been looking on the other side of the field for the Snitch, sped off after Harry, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

As the Gryffindors cheered for Harry, their Seeker suddenly clamped his hands to his mouth, as though he was going to throw up. He hit the field on all fours, coughing, and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference.

Gryffindor had won 170-10, a huge defeat for the Slytherins. Gryffindor was now in the lead for the House Cup, beating Slytherin by 30 points. It would take a lot of favoritism from Snape to bring that score down. After being treated for turf burn by Madam Pomfrey, and changing out of his grass-stained Quidditch robes, Harry was invited to Hagrid's cabin for a cup of strong tea, which he accepted.

"It was Quirrell," Hermione was explaining. "I know a jinx when I see one, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and he wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Quirrell do somethin' like that?"

"I don't know, but it's true!" Hermione pressed on. "When I obscured his vision of Harry, the broom stopped trying to buck him off. Isn't that right, Harry?"

"I wouldn't know. I was just trying to hold on for dear life," Harry apologized.

"I saw it with my own eyes," said Neville. "To be honest, I was covering my eyes with my hands half of the time, but I saw her hit Quirrell with the spell, and then everyone was all right again. When she did that with Snape, though, the broomstick just started bucking harder. It was a jinx, all right. Broomsticks don't do that on their own."

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but neither Snape nor Quirrell would try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh- yeh meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. Now stop thinkin' bout those things, before yeh get expelled!"

Harry, Neville, and Hermione got the message, and quickly left Hagrid's cabin.

* * *

"We need to talk about this somewhere private," Harry told Hermione when they got back to Gryffindor Tower. "Know the most private spot around here?"

"I mean, it would probably be the girls' dormitory, if Lavender and Parvati aren't there." Hermione whispered back. "But if they are, then that is probably the least private spot in the whole school. But-"

"Okay, then," said Neville, starting to climb the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. "Last one there is a rotten- augh!"

The staircase suddenly turned into a slide, which dumped Neville back into the Common Room.

"What was that?!" he cried.

"No boys are allowed in the girls' dormitory," Hermione explained. "I think it's for safety reasons. I was going to tell you that, until someone interrupted me."

"Oh, sorry," said Neville. "I didn't know you were still talking."

"That's okay. You did learn your lesson, after all." Hermione replied.

"If we can't enter there, then why did you even suggest it?" Harry asked, confused.

"I didn't suggest it, I just told you that it's the most private spot in Gryffindor Tower, because only girls can access it." Hermione said. "But we would probably be safe talking by the fireplace, which would cover up our voices."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, then."

The trio sat by the fireplace, and started to discuss the Quidditch incident.

"You're sure it was Quirrell and not Snape?" Harry asked. "I just can't imagine Quirrell as an evil mastermind or anything like that."

"I told you, when I cast my spell on Snape, it seemed as if your broomstick became more violent. It was almost as if he was casting a counter-curse…" Hermione said.

Harry snorted. "Why would he do that? He hates me! You've seen him in class. I think he mainly does it because of my father."

"I agree," said Neville. "That man is a nightmare."

"Oh, stop exaggerating, Neville. Whatever it may be, it did look like he was casting a counter-curse," Hermione insisted.

"That still doesn't explain how Quirrell, of all people, could be a potential murderer," Harry pointed out.

"Why do you suppose he's innocent? Is it because he stutters? He appears weak? You know, he could easily be acting," Hermione countered.

"That's true," Neville agreed.

"Well…" Harry tried to find a counterpoint, but couldn't. "I suppose you could be right."

"You better watch your back, Harry," said Neville. "Quirrell might try and stick a knife in you when you aren't looking."

"He wouldn't do that!" Hermione said.

"Not in front of witnesses, he wouldn't." Harry replied. "I don't think I need to be paranoid in Defense Against the Dark Arts, as long as I'm the first one out the door."

"Still, he could attack you in the corridors, or the bathroom." Neville pointed out. "You can still do whatever you want, you should just be careful."

"Fine," Harry said. "I'm still keeping an eye on Snape."

"Why? I know he's mean to you, but that isn't a reason to spy on him, for goodness' sake!" Hermione admonished.

"Remember the afternoon after we saw Snape limping? When I left Gryffindor Tower to go on a walk?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I remember that day. Snape looked real nasty when he saw us." Neville said.

"Well, I went to spy on Snape, who was in the staffroom," Harry explained. "He had a mangled leg, and was talking about the giant three-headed dog on the third floor corridor."

"A giant three-headed dog?!" Hermione whisper screamed. Harry internally slapped himself. "Why is there a giant three-headed dog on the third floor corridor?!"

"Wait," said Neville. "How do you know that?"

"Well…" Harry tried to come up with an explanation, but decided to tell the truth. "The Weasley twins and I accidentally ended up on the forbidden third-floor corridor."

Thankfully, Hermione didn't start lecturing Harry on safety and whatnot. She had gotten used to Harry's somewhat reckless behavior by now. "When did this happen?"

"First weekend of school," Harry said. "We were trying to get a midnight snack from the kitchens when Peeves caught us and tried to get us in trouble with Filch. We ran away and hid in what we thought was an empty classroom, but it turned out to be the abandoned third-floor corridor. We ran away scot-free before it could attack us."

"Why does that have to do with trying to kill you?" Neville asked.

"We went back to investigate it after the first Quidditch practice, using it as an alibi. The dog seems to be guarding a trapdoor in the ground. We didn't stay around to find out what it was guarding, though." Harry replied.

"You think Snape is trying to steal something?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, I do," answered Harry.

"Still, what does that have to do with Snape trying to kill you?" asked Neville.

"When I was overhearing Snape talk to Filch about the dog, Peeves threw dust all over the corridor I was in. I sneezed, and had to run away, but Snape saw my footprints in the dust. I think he somehow knew it was me. I have a feeling he might be a Legilimens," said Harry.

"Aren't you an Occlumens, though?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah, but he teaches every student at Hogwarts. If he couldn't find the culprit, then by process of elimination, it was me."

"Wouldn't he think it could have been a teacher?" asked Neville.

"If it was a teacher, they would report it to Dumbledore, who would likely fire Snape. No, he knew it was me. Maybe he was trying to get rid of the evidence," Harry surmised.

"By golly, you might have two teachers trying to kill you!" exclaimed Neville. "You better watch your back, Harry."

"That's not necessarily true," Hermione countered. "Only Quirrell was jinxing Harry's broom, remember. Snape might've been staring at the spectacle, or performing a counter-curse for whatever reason he may have."

"Well, maybe both of them were jinxing Harry!" Neville thought. "They both could be in on it, along with Filch!"

"The odds of that are slim to none," Hermione said. "It's either one or the other. Personally, I believe it's Quirrell."

"I feel like Snape would be more likely to try and murder me," muttered Harry. "I wouldn't put it past that hooked nose of his."

"Whoever it is, you better be careful," Hermione said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I know, I know."

* * *

It had been a month since Harry's first Quidditch match, but thankfully, he had survived school until winter break. If possible, Snape seemed to have gotten meaner towards Harry, but he was used to that by now. Luckily, Professor Quirrell didn't seem to suspect Harry or his friends of anything, and Harry hadn't had the misfortune of being attacked by the DADA teacher.

The boy in question was currently checking to make sure he hadn't forgotten to put something important into his bag. The Hogwarts Express was scheduled to arrive at 11:00 AM, just barely an hour away. After peeking inside his mokeskin pouch for the fifth time in a row, Harry calmed his nerves. Feeding Hedwig one final treat, he headed downstairs. Neville and Hermione, like usual, were lounging by the fireplace. Harry joined them.

"You two are going home for winter break too, right?" Harry asked.

"Of course I am," said Hermione. "Aside from a few phone calls and letters, I haven't contacted my parents in months. I can just imagine how worried they would have to be, with me gone and all. They are probably having a hard time adjusting to the fact that magic is real, too!"

"Gran would kill me if I didn't come home for winter break," said Neville. "By the way, Harry, are you still deciding if you'll come over to Gran's during the Christmas holidays?"

"I'll have to check with my godfather, but knowing him, I'll probably come." Harry reassured Neville. "You sure you don't want us to meet your parents, Hermione?"

"Like I said, they are probably still struggling with the idea of magic. They're just dentists, for goodness' sake! I don't think I should give them any more stress than they already have right now. I think I'll just stay home and celebrate Christmas with my family this year. I'll probably spend some time with you guys during summer break, though. Maybe next winter break, too." Hermione said.

"I still don't see how meeting your parents would add stress onto their lives…" Harry said. "But whatever you say, Hermione. Still, send us Christmas presents, will you?"

"Of course," Hermione replied. After an awkward silence, Hermione grabbed a book from her handbag and started reading it. Harry and Neville started making plans to visit each other during the Christmas holidays.

"We should probably wait a couple of days, so Gran can get adjusted. She's probably not used to living alone again." Neville said.

"Shouldn't we come for Christmas dinner, though?" asked Harry.

"Not really. We usually celebrate Christmas with only our immediate family," Neville replied.

"Oh, okay," Harry said. "Is Friday okay, then?"

"I think so," said Neville. "Of course, I'll have to check with Gran. I assume she'll agree, though."

"Glad that's settled," Harry said. He looked at the clock on the Common Room wall. "Seems we have fifteen minutes to spare now. Want to play a game of Exploding Snap?"

"I thought we would do that on the train, though." Neville replied.

"Oh, yeah," Harry remembered. "Then what should we do?"

"Don't ask me," answered Neville.

"In my opinion, you should always keep a good book on hand, in case you have nothing to do," Hermione told them, looking up from her book.

Harry playfully rolled his eyes. "Of course you would say that."

"Because it's true!" Hermione defended herself.

"Do you have One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi in your bag?" asked Neville.

"I think so," replied Hermione, starting to dig through her bag. "It should be around here somewhere…"

"Why do you have your school books with you? There's no homework for the winter holidays, is there?" Harry asked.

"Aha! Found it!" Hermione said triumphantly, raising a book over her head before handing it to Neville. "To answer your question, Harry, because they are interesting books to read."

"And you also probably want to get a head start on the school curriculum," Harry teased.

"That, too," Hermione replied. "I advise you to do the same. "

"Both you and I know that's not going to happen, Hermione," Harry told her.

"But you should. It might help you get better at Potions, or maybe Herbology." Hermione persisted.

"I'll never get better at Potions, not while Snape is teaching that class. As for Herbology, it's just not my strong suit. Studying won't make me better at taking care of plants." Harry countered.

"That's true," said Neville. "Some people are just born with the talent. Harry here doesn't have it. And as hard as you try, you don't have it either, Hermione."

"How do you know?" asked Hermione.

"Maybe because you aren't at the top of the class in Herbology," Harry reasoned. "You're at the top most of the classes."

"You are, too! I can't beat you at Defense Against the Dark Arts, or flying, or Transfiguration, or Charms! PE, too!" Hermione replied.

"That's because all the lessons are still easy. And you and I both know that we're tied in Transfiguration and Charms. Besides, I don't think flying is even a class," Harry told her. "You're better at everything else, though. History, Astronomy, Math, English…"

"That's not most of the classes, though." Hermione pointed out. "That's only four."

"You know what I mean," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "Admit it, you're the smartest one here."

"We're getting off topic here." Hermione realized. "And look at the time! We've got to go."

Indeed, there was only five minutes until the train was scheduled to leave. The group of friends realized that a majority of the Gryffindors had already left. They hurried to their dormitories to grab their bags, and rushed down the long flights of stairs, trying not to fall down in their haste.

"I wish we had an elevator," huffed Harry. "With all the stuff we copied off of Muggles, we should have better transportation by now."

"There's Apparition," Hermione told him.

"But we can't do that yet," Harry said.

"Wish we could," added Neville.

"You do know you can't Apparate inside of Hogwarts, right? It's in Hogwarts, A History." Hermione said.

"Neville hasn't read that book yet. Also, why do you have that memorized?"

"Because it's useful information?" Hermione countered. Harry couldn't find a counterargument for that statement.

The trio arrived on the ground floor, and followed the stream of students hurrying out of the castle.

"Do we have to take the boats again?" asked Neville, checking to make sure Trevor was still in his pocket.

"No, Hogwarts students only do that one time. I think the Hogwarts founders did that to add an extra element of wonder to the castle." Hermione replied. "We'll take the carriages this time."

The trio hurried over to an empty carriage. As they deposited their bags into the back, Harry reached over and gently stroked the Thestrals.

"What are you doing?" asked Hermione, confused. "Are you feeling alright?"

"You can't see the Thestrals?" Harry asked her, confused. The carriages started to move.

"Thestrals? Aren't they a kind of winged horse? I remember reading something about them…" Hermione said.

"They are a type of winged horse, yes. You can only see them when you've seen something die." Harry said. "But you saw that troll die. Why can't you see the Thestrals?"

"I can see them, too," said Neville. "But that's because I saw my granddad die."

"Oh," said Hermione. "Sorry for your loss."

"Yeah," said Harry.

"It's okay," said Neville. "I'm way past that."

Hermione reached inside her bag, pulling out a couple of books before finding the right one. Opening it up, she flipped towards the end of the book.

"Apparently you need to really understand the meaning of death for you to see a thestral," she said, reading the book. "Maybe a troll dying isn't the same as, say, a person you know dying."

"Maybe," Harry conceded. "That would explain why you two don't see the Thestrals."

"Who did you see die?" asked Hermione, intrigued.

"My parents, of course." Harry replied.

"You couldn't have remembered that. You were only one year old," Hermione countered.

"Do you know what a Pensieve is?" asked Harry.

"Yes, but… oh." said Hermione. "Wait, can you remember anything in your life with that, then?"

"Yes," Harry told her. "Those things come in real handy when there is a court case. Unless, of course, someone alters their own memories. But only skilled Occlumens can do that effectively."

"Can't the courts just use Veritaserum?" asked Hermione.

"Well, Veritaserum can only be used in certain cases, if it is approved. When it is, there isn't a guarantee that it will work. If someone knows that they will be given Veritaserum, then it might not work as well. There are antidotes and charms to counteract Veritaserum. Occlumens are immune to it," said Harry. "Also, if they think that something is true, but it isn't, they will still say that it is true. Pensieves allow the court to decide for themselves if something is true or not."

"How do people find if an Occlumens is guilty, then?" asked Hermione. "They can change their memories, and truth potions won't work on them."

"They try and use witness testimonies, if possible. Sometimes the court will just let them go, because their isn't sufficient evidence to convict them of anything. Then again, in the right circumstances, they could go to Azkaban without evidence. Like if they were thought to be a Death Eater during the Second Wizarding War." Harry explained.

"Wouldn't they have a Dark Mark?" asked Hermione.

"Dark Marks only apply to high ranking Death Eaters. Besides, that mark could be hidden by a number of means." said Harry.

"Oh, that makes sense." Hermione reasoned. She reached out to feel a Thestral, jumping back a tiny bit when her hand connected with something invisible to her.

"Hey, that's not very nice!" said Hermione, glaring at Harry, who was trying to hide his chuckle behind his hand. Neville was also grinning slightly.

"Something wrong, Hermione?" asked Neville. "You seem to be a bit jumpy today."

Neville quickly scooted away from Hermione unsuccessfully, who kicked him in the shin. Neville groaned, clutching his injured leg.

"Did you have to do that?" he asked.

"No," said Hermione.

Harry scooted a tiny bit farther away from Hermione, and stayed there for the rest of the ride. The carriage arrived at the station where the Hogwarts students had arrived from. Harry didn't recognize it, as it had been dark the last time he had been here. The tiny platform was already crowded. There seemed to be a lot of toe-stepping and shoving. Harry, Hermione, and Neville waited on the stone steps for the train to arrive. All three of them checked their watches. The train was running late.

The trio waited patiently for the train to arrive. A few minutes later, the scarlet steam engine entered into sight, causing quite a few people to release impatient sighs of relief. As the train stopped, everyone hurried on, finding compartments to sit in. Harry, Hermione, and Neville sat in the same compartment as the one they had when they had first sat on the train.

As everyone boarded the train, Harry started playing Exploding Snap with Neville. Not surprisingly, Hermione started reading a book. Harry won the first round, with Neville taking the next two. The latter, who had been particularly clumsy in the beginning of the year, actually had a quick reaction time. After Neville won two more times, Harry slowly started to make a comeback. The boys, who were playing to twenty, didn't notice the time fly by.

"Aha!" shouted Harry, tapping the deck when he saw two Bowtruckles. "I won this round! Twenty to eighteen!"

"Yeah, but I'm still winning in games. Seventeen to sixteen, remember?" Neville reminded him.

"You're only winning by one," Harry reasoned. "I can easily catch up to you."

"Yeah, but if I win this next one, then I'm up two games. Not so easy then, is it?" asked Neville.

"I'm sure I could manage," replied Harry.

"Let's see you try," Neville told him confidently. "Bet you'll lose."

"We'll see about that." Harry replied.

The score was nineteen to nineteen in games won when the train arrived at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Harry and Neville shook hands, calling a tie. Hermione finished reading her second book. The three of them got up, grabbing their luggage, and headed out onto the platform. Harry looked around, and spotted his godfather pushing through the crowd toward him.

"Hey, Sirius," said Harry.

"Hey there, pup," greeted Sirius. "Been up to some trouble lately?"

Harry grinned. "You know I did! Alas, homework caught up to me."

Sirius scowled. "My archnemesis…"

Harry laughed with his godfather, and they headed toward the fireplace. Flooing to Grimmauld Place, Harry unpacked his things, and opened Hedwig's cage. The owl gave an appreciative hoot, and flew out the open window. With a content sigh, Harry flopped onto his old bed again. Home sweet home.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter came out one week later than I would have liked. I didn't have much time last weekend to write this chapter, nor did I have time during the weekdays. Next chapter will be completely of my own creation, minus the characters, and will probably take longer to write than some other chapters.


	8. Chapter 8: The Winter Holidays

**Chapter 8: The Winter Holidays**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor do I put any claim whatsoever onto Harry Potter. I am making absolutely no profit on this, and I am not making this to gain anything whatsoever.

**A/N: **In the last chapter, Neville couldn't see Threstrals, but I found out later that he _could_ see Thestrals, as he witnessed the death of his grandfather, Augusta Longbottom's husband. I just changed a couple lines of dialogue to fix that.

**Answering Guest Reviews**

1) In the books, they say "soccer", so I was confused there. J.K. Rowling is a British author, so I don't know why she got that wrong. I have fixed the change now.

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning to his magical alarm clock. Remembering that it was Christmas, Harry grabbed his glasses, glancing at the time. Six forty-five. He hurried down the stairs into the living room, still wearing his pajamas. The Christmas tree was in the middle of the room, a big, bright star illuminating the room. Multi-colored lights twinkled from their perches on the branches of the tree. An assortment of ornaments adorned the tree, and a stack of neatly piled presents laid at the bottom of the tree.

Harry picked up one of the presents closest to him, shaking it. The present, which had come from Hermione, sounded like there was candy inside. Opening it up, he saw that it was a large box of Chocolate Frogs. A circular object wrapped in brown paper turned out to be a roughly cut wooden flute from Hagrid, which sounded a bit like an owl when Harry tried to play it. Neville had found an Appleby Arrows poster for Harry, which was his favorite team. There were many sweets from the Tonks family, including lots of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, which were as distinct as Tonks's hair color. The Tonks family was on a trip to Rome, and wouldn't be able to visit Harry and Sirius. A suspicious looking package revealed a bag of Dungbombs from the Weasley twins. Harry hid that particular present out of sight. He planned to plant one under Sirius's mattress that night. The final present he opened was from Lupin, which contained a magical survival handbook. Harry smiled at this, remembering the troll incident. Sirius had been proud of him for that particular feat, especially since it was only Harry's first year.

Harry was setting aside all his Christmas cards for later, when Sirius strolled into the living room, yawning.

"You're up early," he said.

"On Christmas morning, you can never be early," Harry reasoned.

"True, true," said Sirius.

"By the way, where's Lupin?" asked Harry.

"Couldn't get the time off," replied Sirius.

"Aren't you technically his boss, since he's an Auror, and you're the Head of the DMLE?" asked Harry.

"Doesn't work like that. I don't get a say in specific things like that. The Head of the Auror Department decides who gets time off, and seeing as how Lupin doesn't have a family…" explained Sirius.

"Oh, that's a shame," said Harry. Christmas tended to be more exciting with Lupin around.

Harry inconspicuously got up, heading over to Sirius's room to plant the Dungbomb.

* * *

Harry looked at himself in the mirror. It had been two days since Christmas, and he was going to meet Neville's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, for the first time. He didn't know much about her, only that she was the mother of Frank Longbottom, and that she served in the Wizengamot as the Head of Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom. Frank was unable to serve in the Wizengamot, for obvious reasons, and Neville couldn't either, at least until he came of age.

Trying to flatten his hair, to no avail, Harry joined Sirius by the fireplace.

"You all ready to go?" asked Sirius.

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't be standing here," replied Harry.

With a laugh, Sirius threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire, turning it emerald green.

"Do I smell alright?" asked Sirius. He had put on some cologne.

"That Dungbomb _was _two days ago," said Harry.

Sirius scowled. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. I'll get you back for that one day."

"Sure, sure," said Harry, watching as Sirius stepped into the fire, calling out the address and zipping away. After a few seconds, Harry followed suit, careful not to inhale any ashes.

Holding his glasses in his hands, Harry zoomed through the Floo network, trying not to get motion sickness. After a couple seconds, he was deposited out of a fireplace inside Augusta Longbottom's house. Sirius was standing there, brushing soot off of his clothes.

"Hey, Harry," called Neville. He was standing by a formidable looking witch. The woman, who Harry assumed was Augusta Longbottom, was tall, thin and bony. She was wearing a hat with a stuffed vulture on it, and was carrying a bright red handbag.

"A pleasure to meet you, madam," said Sirius formally. "I am Sirius Black, Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. This is my godson, Harry Potter."

"The same to you, Lord Black. I am Augusta Longbottom, Lady of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black." said Augusta, shaking his hand. She turned to Harry, and shook his hand too. "A pleasure to meet you, young man. My grandson has told me all about you."

Sirius and Augusta headed off to the living room, presumably to talk over a cup of tea. Harry walked over to Neville.

Harry looked around. The house, while big, had a nice, cozy feel to it. The fire, now orange, was crackling merrily on the pile of logs in the hearth. On the mantel sat a family photo, which Harry assumed included a younger Augusta, Enid, and Algie, along with Frank and Alice Longbottom, the latter holding a baby that must have been Neville. What appeared to be Neville's grandfather was standing beside Augusta. The people in the picture waved at Harry, who was saddened a bit, because he knew what had happened to that family since then.

There was a set of carved, wooden double doors across the entrance hall, opposite the fireplace. Circular windows that were frosted over presented a view of the front yard, which had two neatly trimmed patches of grass on either end of the cobbled walkway. There was a dense forest on the other side of a road that curved out of sight. Turning his attention back indoors, Harry noted that there seemed to be no dust in sight. Evidently, the Longbottoms owned a house elf.

"Nice house you have," commented Harry.

"Thanks," replied Neville. "Come on, let's go find someplace better to talk."

Harry followed his friend up some spiral stairs to the second floor, and found himself in Neville's bedroom after left turns down two corridors. The two friends plopped down onto the bed.

"Does your grandmother always look like that?" asked Harry.

"What, intimidating? Yeah, that's Gran." replied Neville.

"Is that because of your parents?" assumed Harry.

"Probably. I never asked her," said Neville.

"She looks like someone you wouldn't want to mess with," commented Harry. "Why wasn't she a part of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"That's the organization that fought against Voldemort, right?" Neville checked.

"Yes," replied Harry. "I know your mum and dad were part of the Order, but not your grandmother. Why?"

"Gran told me that she wanted to join, but my dad didn't let her. He said that if she became a member of the Order, she would be targeted by the Death Eaters." replied Neville.

"I think she would hold her own against Death Eaters," said Harry.

"Me, too. But Gran tells me my dad was so stubborn, she stayed out of the fight. I suppose that he was right, though." Neville didn't need to finish his sentence. The condition of his parent's proved plenty.

"By the way, thanks for your present," said Harry, trying to change the subject.

"It's nothing," replied Neville. "Thanks for the new chess set. I'm surprised you noticed that my old one was wearing out."

"How long have you had that one for, anyway?" asked Harry, curious. "I've had mine for maybe four years now."

"Uncle Algie got it for me when I was three. So I've had it for eight years. It's about time I had a replacement, too." Neville told Harry. "Want to play a game on it? Best out of three?"

"I'd rather not," said Harry. "We still need to figure out what's on the third floor."

"You're still on about that?" asked Neville. "It's been, like, a month!"

"If Snape was willing to risk his life to get whatever is there, then we should know, too," reasoned Harry. "The only ones who seem to know are the Hogwarts staff. Maybe we could slip one of them a truth serum?"

"That doesn't sound very ethical," commented Neville. "Or legal."

"I believe Veritaserum is the only one that is illegal," countered Harry. "Could we get one of them drunk?"

"That's… not much better," said Neville.

"Then how will we figure it out, then?" asked Harry. "We can't just hope one of the staff accidentally slips and tells us the secret, can we?"

"Maybe you shouldn't keep worrying," Neville told him. "As long as he doesn't try to murder you, possibly for a second time, it's not your problem."

"My gut tells me whatever that three-headed dog is guarding, it is my problem," said Harry. "What happens if it is something dangerous?"

"It's not like Snape is some evil dark wizard," Neville pointed out.

Harry looked at him quizzically. "Wait… you don't know that Snape was a Death Eater?"

"Wait, what?!" Neville exclaimed. "Snape's a Death Eater?!"

"Yeah," said Harry. "He has a Dark Mark on his arm. It might be gone by now, but he _did _have one. Apparently, Dumbledore vouched for him, claiming that he was a double agent working for the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius had seen him a couple of times at the meetings. Still, I don't trust him."

"Wait, I'm confused," said Neville. "So Snape was a Death Eater, but Dumbledore says he's a spy, but you don't think he's a spy, and you believe that he is _still_ a Death Eater?"

"That about sums it up," replied Harry.

"But if Dumbledore says Snape is a spy, then Snape should be a good guy, right?" asked Neville.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just because Dumbledore says something is true doesn't mean that it _actually_ is true. If he went outside and suddenly said, 'The sky is green!', would you believe him?"

"That's completely different, though," countered Neville. "Don't you think he would have to be certain Snape is working for him before he would say that in front of everyone?"

"I'm just saying that Dumbledore _could_ be wrong. Besides, there is no certain way to make sure what Snape says is true. He's an accomplished Occlumens, which means that Veritaserum and Legilimency are ineffective against him."

"Couldn't he have taken an Unbreakable Vow, though?" asked Neville.

"If he did, then trying to steal something from under Dumbledore's nose would probably break that vow," Harry pointed out.

"Unless it wasn't dangerous," countered Neville.

"Then why did someone try to steal it from Gringotts? To be honest, that was probably Snape, too," replied Harry.

"If you're so paranoid that Snape is trying to steal something, why didn't you stay at Hogwarts?" asked Neville.

"You're changing the subject," Harry noticed.

"So what if I am?" replied Neville. "It's the winter holidays, Harry. Can't you just let the matter rest until we get back to Hogwarts?"

"I guess," said Harry. "But I'm going to interrogate Hagrid when I get back."

There was an awkward silence.

"So, about that chess game…" said Harry.

* * *

Harry was lying on his bed, a stack of books beside him. He had just gotten back from the Longbottom's house, and was currently researching possibilities for what Snape was trying to get. There were only so many things that someone would risk their life for, right?

As it turned out, there were many more things than Harry had realized. He had to find books on countless artifacts and relics, many of which fulfilled the requirements Harry was looking for. Maybe it was a Deathly Hallow, like the Resurrection Stone or the Elder Wand. Maybe it was a valuable object, like the Ring of Dispel or the Stone of Giramphiel. Maybe it was a weapon like Excalibur, Carnwennan, Merlin's staff, or Fail-not, a bow that never missed its mark. In Harry's opinion, that last weapon had a stupid name.

Harry tried to eliminate some of the potential options. Snape didn't seem like the type that knew how to use a sword or a bow. The Elder Wand, if it still existed, would probably be in someone's possession by now, not in an empty chamber. The most likely options were either the Resurrection Stone or the Ring of Dispel.

Suddenly, Harry had a thought. What if Snape wanted to become _immortal_? Anyone would try to risk their life to gain that. That left the Apples of Immortality, if they were real, the Holy Grail, and the Philosopher's Stone. Harry had read no books about the existence of an Apple of Immortality, so that was not likely. The Holy Grail was most likely buried along King Arthur, and the Philosopher's Stone should be with Nicholas Flamel… unless he made a second one…

Harry didn't know how to make a Philosopher's Stone, of course, but the one person who did was still very much alive. Harry assumed that the process to make a Philosopher's Stone must be really difficult, or have really rare ingredients, but if one was possible to make, surely two could be made, right? Besides, Nicholas Flamel would probably have a backup if he lost his original one.

Harry knew that if Snape got ahold of the Philosopher's Stone, he would be virtually invincible. He could turn common metal into precious gold, and basically have unlimited money. If he was immortal, then he probably wouldn't be able to be killed, not by magic or weapon. Harry wasn't sure about that, but it was likely true. If that stone fell into the wrong hands, nothing good would happen.

Harry wondered if he should tell Sirius, but decided not to. After all, he wasn't absolutely sure that the three-headed dog was guarding a Philosopher's Stone. But if he was right… he needed a backup plan. He knew that there was a Hufflepuff student in his year level, Susan Bones, whose aunt was the Ministress of Magic. She could be helpful. Harry would also need to practice his spellwork a lot, because he currently did not have half a fighting chance against an experienced dark wizard. He was certain there would be many protections on whatever was hidden inside the school. He would try and squeeze some information out of Hagrid when he got back to Hogwarts. Once he had an idea of what was to come, then he would start training. Hopefully, he wouldn't need that training.

* * *

**A/N: **I realized that there was a feminine form for the word "Minister", so I changed that in a couple of chapters. I won't write any more about the winter holidays, so next chapter will have Harry back at Hogwarts again.


	9. Chapter 9: The Norwegian Ridgeback

**Chapter 9: The Norwegian Ridgeback**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor do I put any claim whatsoever onto Harry Potter. I am making absolutely no profit on this, and I am not making this to gain anything whatsoever.

* * *

Since Harry had gotten back to Hogwarts the day before term started, he hadn't had the chance to meet Hagrid yet. The teachers were working them much harder, preparing them for the first-year exams, even though they were still half a year away. Oliver Wood was working the Quidditch players to the bone during the weekends, and Harry was too tired after practice to do much.

If the Gryffindor Quidditch team won against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the Quidditch Cup, for the first time in seven years. However, Wood had told the team that Snape would be refereeing the match, after an incident with the Weasley twins dive-bombing each other.

This piece of information worried Harry for two reasons. One, he believed that Snape wouldn't hesitate to give Hufflepuff every advantage against the Gryffindors, if only to spite Harry. Two, Harry worried that Snape might be the one that sabotaged his last game, and might try to kill him again this time.

"Don't play," said Hermione, who was playing a game of chess with Neville. Harry had told them about his predicament.

"Hermione, he _has _to play. There's no reserve Seeker on the Quidditch team. If Harry quits, then Gryffindor will lose the Quidditch Cup again." explained Neville.

"I'd rather Harry not play, and have him live to see another day," countered Hermione.

"How's Snape going to attack him?" asked Neville. "There are at least a hundred spectators in the stadium. Don't you think it'll be obvious when a spell comes out of Snape's wand and makes Harry keel over?"

"Everyone will know that it's Snape," acknowledged Hermione. "But Harry would still be dead!"

"I should play, Hermione. I'm not going to chicken out just because I _think_ Snape will do something dangerous. Besides, even if he _does_ try to kill me, hitting a moving target is harder than it looks." said Harry.

"Fine," sighed Hermione. "But if something happens, don't say I didn't tell you so."

"I won't," promised Harry. "I'm going to bed now. That Quidditch practice is really tiring."

* * *

Hermione and Neville were sitting in the Quidditch stands, tensed up. They were watching Snape very closely, to the confusion of Seamus, who was sitting next to them. He didn't understand why both of them had brought their wands to the stadium, or why they looked like someone was going to attack them at any second.

"Don't forget, it's _Expelliarmus_," Hermione told Neville, who was slipping his wand up his sleeve. The two of them had been practicing the Disarming Charm, to varying degrees of success. They were ready to cast spells at Snape if he showed any signs of aggression towards Harry.

Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry was putting on his Quidditch robes, not listening to a word that Oliver Wood was saying in his pep talk. Harry's nerves were acting up, even more so when Wood pulled him aside for a quick talk.

"Don't want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early capture of the Snitch it's now. FInish the game before Snape can favor Hufflepuff too much."

"The whole school's out there!" exclaimed Fred Weasley, peering out the door, "Even- blimey- Dumbledore's come to watch!"

Harry's heart did a somersault. To be honest, it was more like a somersault with three front-flips into a handspring. Did a heart have hands? Or for that matter, did it have legs?

Dashing over to the door, Harry peered out. Fred was right. There was no mistaking that silver beard. Harry almost laughed from relief. He knew that nobody in their right mind would try to attack him in front of the headmaster. Even Voldemort had feared that man, and from what Harry had heard, for good reason! Whether it was Snape, or Quirrell, that had jinxed Harry's broom, neither of them would be up to foul play today.

Harry noticed that Snape seemed to be extremely angry, perhaps because of this turn of events. Neville had noticed, too, and was about to tell Hermione when he felt a sharp poke at the back of his head.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Neville, turning around in his seat. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Longbottom, didn't see you there." Malfoy grinned, looking at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want to bet? What about you, Longbottom?"

Neville didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepiff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.

Malfoy was getting a bit angry, having been ignored. A few minutes later, when Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty for no reason, he said loudly, "You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team? It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville went bright red.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," he said.

"I don't think I will," replied Malfoy. "You know, if brains were gold, you'd be poorer than the Weasleys, and that's saying something."

"Malfoy, can't you just go away? I'm trying to watch the game over here."

"Ooh, that's _two _full sentences! Your grannie must be _so_ proud of you!" jeered Malfoy sarcastically. Crabbe and Goyle laughed with him.

"Neville!" said Hermione suddenly. "Look, Harry-"

"What? Where?" asked Neville, turning around.

Harry had gone into a spectacular dive, drawing gasps and cheers from the audience. Hermione crossed her fingers in her mouth, watching Harry race toward the ground, as fast as lightning. He had obviously seen the Snitch. Draco Malfoy stopped antagonizing Neville, and just watched Harry, who was currently speeding toward Snape.

The professor in question turned his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, and then felt a sudden pain shoot across his face. He clasped his nose, which was now bleeding. The broomstick's tail end had whacked him across the face.

Before Snape could call another penalty, Harry pulled out of his dive, his right arm raised, the Snitch clasped tightly in his hand. The stands erupted with cheers, amazed by such a fast game. No one could recall a Quidditch match that had been this quick before. Hermione was shrieking, dancing up and down in her seat, hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front of her, to the girl's utter confusion.

Harry jumped off his broom, hiding his amazement. The game was over- it had barely lasted five minutes. He had done it. Gryffindor was now in the lead, and had the chance to snatch the Quidditch Cup from right under Snape's hooked nose. He saw the professor land nearby, white-faced and tight-lipped, still holding his hand to his nose, right before Harry was swarmed by cheering Gryffindors, who had rushed onto the field to congratulate him.

As the crowd dispersed, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up into Dumbledore's smiling face.

"Well done," said the headmaster quietly. "Nice to see that you've been busy… excellent…"

Unbeknownst to Dumbledore, Snape spat bitterly on the ground, glaring at Harry from over the headmaster's shoulder, and stomped away.

* * *

Harry left the locker room some time later, to put his Nimbus 2000 in the broomshed. He couldn't remember a time when he had been happier. He'd proven himself as one of the best Seekers that had gone to Hogwarts, and now everyone knew it.

As Harry reached the shed, he leaned against the wooden door, looking up at Hogwarts. He spotted a hooded figure that came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. He walked with a slight limp, and Harry instantly knew that it was Snape. Harry watched him suspiciously. It was dinnertime already, and everyone should have been in the Great Hall, eating. What was Snape doing?

Harry watched as Snape headed toward the Forbidden Forest. He made a mental note to tell his friends about this later. His gut was telling him to follow the potions master, but he knew that he would probably get in trouble. Besides, he had to attend to his growling stomach. Snape was probably just grabbing some potions ingredients he had run out of.

But as Harry walked back to the castle, he had a nagging feeling that he was missing something.

* * *

Surprisingly, Harry still hadn't found the time to visit Hagrid in the following weeks after the Quidditch match. To be honest, the thought had slipped to the back of his mind, until Neville spotted Hagrid browsing through books in the library. Harry and his friends had been trying to complete their homework in the library.

"Hagrid!" exclaimed Neville. "What are you doing in the library?"

Looking up from his book, _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_, Harry saw Hagrid shuffle into view, hiding something behind his back. He was looking very suspicious at that moment.

"Jus' lookin'," said Hagrid. Harry didn't believe him for a second.

"Doin' yer homework?" asked Hagrid, trying to chance the subject. "Good fer yeh. Gotta study fer those exams, right?"

"What are you looking for?" questioned Hermione, peering at Hagrid suspiciously.

"Nothin', jus' plain ol' books an' stuff," replied Hagrid. "Well, I've got things to do, places to be. Yeh better keep studyin' there. Keep those grades up."

Hagrid shuffled off before he could be interrogated further. Hermione got up to check what section Hagrid had been in. She came back with a pile of books in her arms, which she set on the table.

"Hagrid was looking at _dragons_!" whispered Hermione. "Look; _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland: From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide_."

"You don't think…?" muttered Neville.

"I've heard stories about Hagrid keeping lots of animals. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a dragon." said Harry. "If anyone finds out, he'll be in big trouble. Dragon breeding was outlawed in 1709."

"Should we say anything?" asked Hermione.

"We don't know if he actually _has_ a dragon. He could just be reading about them," pointed out Neville.

"He was acting really suspicious," said Harry. "But we should definitely check first. Maybe we can convince him to get rid of the dragon. That way, he won't get in trouble."

Hermione and Neville agreed.

When they knocked on Hagrid's front door an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed.

"Who is it?" called Hagrid.

"It's Hermione, Neville, and me, Harry," replied Harry.

The door opened, and Hagrid beckoned them in. He quickly shut the door behind them. Hagrid made them tea, but the trio politely declined his stoat sandwiches.

"So- yeh want to ask me somethin'?" asked Hagrid.

"Well- wait, is that what I think it is?" Harry was pointing toward the blazing fire in the grate, with a huge, black egg in the very heart of the flame.

"Ah," said Hagrid, nervously fiddling with his beard. "That's- er…"

"Where did you get it, Hagrid?" asked Neville, peering at the egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Won it," said Hagrid proudly. "Las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest."

"That… seems a little bit shady," commented Hermione. "What did the guy want?"

"Not much, ter be honest," replied Hagrid. "I told you that he seemed ter be glad to get rid of that egg. He was mostly askin' questions."

"What kind of questions?" asked Hermione.

"All sorts," said Hagrid. "He asked 'bout me job, asked what kind of creatures I handled. Told him 'bout Fluffy… how music makes him sleep better…"

Harry looked up, suddenly concerned. "Did you happen to talk about Nicholas Flamel?"

"As a matter o' fact, he did. Seemed mighty interested, he did." replied Hagrid. He didn't notice the quick look that passed between Harry and his friends.

"What did the stranger look like?" asked Neville.

"Dunno," said Hagrid, still unconcerned. "Couldn' see his face. He had a black cloak on, hood up."

Harry jumped up. "That's all for now, thanks."

"Jus' don't tell anyone," said Hagrid.

"We won't," promised Hermione.

Like always, Harry, Hermione, and Neville were clustered around the common room fireplace, discussing. Their homework laid to the side, forgotten.

"I think that this is pretty definitive evidence that Snape is after the Philosopher's Stone," summarized Harry. "All the evidence points to him."

"Not _all_ of the evidence. Like the Quidditch match, for example," countered Hermione.

"We don't know who did that. Snape was one of two suspects. It _had _to be him!" said Harry.

"I agree with Harry. We barely have any evidence for Quirrell, and he just isn't the type to do that kind of thing." said Neville.

"Like I said before, Quirrell could be _acting_." explained Hermione.

"Just admit it, Hermione, it's _far_ more likely that Snape is the villain in this situation," said Neville.

"I didn't say he _wasn't_ the antagonist, I said that there were other people that _could_ be the antagonist," replied Hermione.

"By 'other', do you mean one person?" asked Harry.

"One person that we suspect," countered Hermione.

"But it's more likely that Snape is the person who is trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone," surmised Harry.

"Maybe both Quirrell _and_ Snape are trying to get the stone," thought Hermione.

"Hermione, I can't really imagine those two working together," said Neville.

"Independently." explained Hermione.

"Your theories are a bit absurd now," noticed Harry.

"I'm just stating the possibilities," Hermione defended.

"If you stated _all_ the possibilities, the Philosopher's Stone would be stolen already," Harry told Hermione. "Let's just say that Snape is the culprit for now."

"Fine," relented Hermione. "But keep in mind that Quirrell _is_ a suspect."

"Will do," muttered Harry. "Should we tell Dumbledore?"

Hermione scoffed. "Tell him _what_? That we believe that one of his trusted staff members is secretly trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone from under his nose? Besides, I don't think the stone will be stolen anytime soon."

"Why not?" asked Neville.

"While Snape may know how to get past Fluffy, he still needs to bypass the other defenses around the stone. Also, no one would risk stealing the stone from under Dumbledore's nose, not even You-Know-Who. Besides, there would probably be wards around the stone that alerted Dumbledore when someone took the stone." explained Hermione.

"So we just wait?" asked Harry. "Just wait, and hope someone doesn't try to steal the stone?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Besides, what good are three teenagers going to do against a dark wizard?"

"We don't know that he's a dark wizard," pointed out Harry.

"You just said that it was probably Snape. He worked for You-Know-Who. There's no way he _wouldn't_ be a dark wizard." said Hermione. "Besides, any adult wizard would know more spells than the three of us combined, because _they_ would already have a magical education."

"She had a point," said Neville. "But I agree with you, Harry. I don't feel right, just sitting around like this."

"Then you tell us what to do," countered Hermione.

"Well… we could… uh…" stammered Neville. "Oh, I don't know!"

"What about you, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Well… I don't know," Harry said.

"Exactly. Now, if you two don't mind, I'm going to bed, before either of you can come up with another idea to get us killed, or worse, _expelled_." said Hermione. She grabbed her homework, and headed up to the girl's dormitory.

"She needs to get her priorities straight," muttered Neville.

"I can hear you!" hollered Hermione.

* * *

One breakfast morning, Hedwig brough Harry a note from Hagrid. There were only two words: _It's hatching._

"Should we skip Herbology to see the egg hatch?" whispered Harry.

"No," responded Hermione. "Our classes are actually important, thank you very much. Besides, we'll get in trouble for ditching class."

"I like Herbology," said Neville. "I think we should stay."

"How many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatch?" asked Harry, exasperated. "This could be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and you're skipping it for _school_?"

"We don't know if it will hatch when we're at Herbology. Besides, someone will see us ditching class, and investigate Hagrid's cabin. You know how much trouble he'll be in?" asked Hermione.

Harry saw Malfoy a few feet away, trying to listen in on the conversation.

"Shut up!" Harry whispered. He didn't like the look on Malfoy's face.

The trio made a consensus: they would visit Hagrid during morning break. When the bell sounded the end of class, they hurried through the school grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out." He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table, lined with deep cracks. It was wobbling slightly, and a funny clicking noise emanated from inside. They all drew their chairs up to the table to watch the spectacle unfold. There was a scraping noise, and the egg split open. The baby dragon tumbled onto the table, looking like a black umbrella. The dragon had spiny wings, a skinny jet body, and a long snout with wide nostrils. Harry could see the stubs of horns atop the dragon's head, and he saw the bulging, orange eyes of the dragon as it looked around, curious.

The dragon sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of his nostril. Harry realized that the baby dragon could be a potentially dangerous fire hazard. After all, Hagrid's hut was made out of wood. If there was one accidental sneeze, then the whole cabin could be set ablaze. Harry eyed the dragon with new caution. Apparently, Hagrid didn't realize the dangers of having a baby dragon.

"Isn't he _beautiful_?" said Hagrid, reaching out to stroke the dragon's head. The Norwegian Ridgeback snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs. Harry was tempted to scoot back, but he was mesmerized by the sight of such a strange creature.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!" said Hagrid.

"Hagrid," said Hermione. "How fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?"

Hagrid opened his mouth to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face. He leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?" asked Neville.

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains- it's a kid- he's runnin' back up ter the school." replied Hagrid.

Harry bolted to the door and looked out. Sure enough, the kid was Malfoy. He had seen the dragon.

* * *

Harry was very nervous, probably due to the sinister grin on Malfoy's face the next week. He knew Neville and Hermione shared his feelings. They had spent most of their free time, which wasn't much at all, in Hagrid's darkened hut, trying to reason with him.

"Just let him go," Harry urged. "Set him free."

"I can't," said Hagrid. "He's too little. He'd die."

Everyone looked at the dragon, which was three times its previous length. Smoke was furling out of its nostrils. Harry knew that in less than a month, the dragon could be bigger than Hagrid's hut. It might be able to survive in the wild then, but Harry knew that ministry officials could come bursting through the door at any second. They just didn't have the time to wait. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties, as he had to feed the dragon. Harry knew that, sooner or later, someone would come and investigate why Hagrid was acting this way. When that happened, the game would be up.

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. "He really knows me now, watch. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mummy?"

"He's lost his marbles," whispered Neville to Harry. Harry silently agreed.

"Hagrid," said Harry loudly. "In less than a month, Norbert's going to be as long as your house. Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip. "I- I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him, I can't."

Harry suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"What happened if we gave the dragon to Charlie?" he asked.

"Charlie? Charlie who?" asked Hagrid.

"Charlie Weasley. You know him. He's working with dragons in Romania, right? He'd be a perfect candidate to take care of Norbert." explained Harry.

The discussion went on for half an hour, but in the end, Hagrid relented, agreeing that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask for help.

* * *

Another week passed, and Hedwig arrived with Charlie's reply. He had agreed to help Harry, and had told him to bring Norbert up to the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday, where Charlie's friends would transport the dragon to Romania.

Neville had gotten bitten on his hand by Norbert, and after the cut had swelled, making his hand twice its normal size, and after the cut had turned a nasty shade of green, the three friends were forced to take him to Madam Pomfrey, who they hoped wouldn't recognize a dragon bite when she saw one.

Luckily, she didn't, but the friends discovered that Malfoy had taken the book with the letter in it, and would probably discover their plans soon. There wasn't enough time to change the arrangements with Charlie, so they had to hope for the best. Harry knew he might have to pull out his Cloak of Invisibility. He winced internally. That would require a great deal of explaining.

Harry and Hermione informed Hagrid of Charlie's arrangement, bringing tears to the giant man's eyes. Or maybe that had to do with the bite Norbert had given Hagrid on the leg.

Saturday was a dark and cloudy night, perfect for a group of people riding broomsticks to enter the school grounds undetected. Harry, Hermione, and Neville were currently sitting in the common room, their nerves on edge.

"Malfoy probably told a staff member about us," said Hermione. "Probably Filch or Snape. You know that we're likely to be caught."

"That depends," said Harry vaguely.

"Depends on what?" asked Neville.

"You'll either see soon enough, or you won't." replied Harry. He stepped out of sight, to the utter confusion of his friends, and pulled out the Marauder's Map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," muttered Harry, tapping the magical piece of parchment lightly with his wand. The parchment came to life, displaying the entirety of the school once more. Harry looked around, and saw that Filch was patrolling the corridors, frighteningly close to the rendezvous where Charlie had said to meet.

It seemed that the Cloak of Invisibility would finally be revealed. The Marauder's Map, too. Sighing, Harry came back to his friends.

"There's good news, and bad news." he said, plopping down on his cushioned chair once more. "Which one do you want first?"

"Let's get the bad out of the way first," said Neville. Hermione agreed.

"Filch is patrolling the corridor leading to the Astronomy Tower," Harry said.

"How do you know that?" asked Hermione.

"I'll tell you later. The good news is, we can get by him without being noticed." said Harry.

"Harry, you do know that Filch has caught the Weasley twins before, right? I don't think it's likely that we could fool him." said Neville.

"Do the Weasley twins have a Cloak of Invisibility?" asked Harry, holding up item in question.

Both of his friends gasped.

"You're serious?" asked Hermione.

"Dead serious." replied Harry. "Here, try it on."

Tentatively, Hermione put the cloak around her shoulders. She looked in a nearby mirror, and was shocked to see her own floating head. Her body was nowhere to be seen.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, fingering the material. "How was it made?"

"It was my father's, passed on through the generations. It's a part of the Potter legacy." explained Harry. "How it was made, I don't know, and I won't tell you who made it. It's a family secret, but I might tell you one day."

"Okay, fine by me," said Hermione. "But do you have something else to show us?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," replied Harry. "Behold, the Marauder's Map!"

Neville and Hermione stared at a blank piece of parchment.

"That's… not a very funny joke," commented Neville.

"What if it's not a joke?" countered Harry.

"But of course it's a joke…" said Neville. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Of course." replied Harry. "Look. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Again, Harry's friends gasped as ink suddenly appeared on the piece of parchment.

"It can track people?" asked Hermione, peering over Harry's shoulder to look at the map.

"I thought Hogwarts was Unplottable," commented Neville. "At least, that's what Hermione says."

"Hogwarts _is_ Unplottable. As long as you don't put any information on the map to help someone locate Hogwarts, the Unplottable charm won't activate." explained Harry. "Also, yes, Hermione, it can track people."

"Who is Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs?" asked Hermione. "Are those code names?"

"You are correct," replied Harry. "Moony is Lupin, Wormtail is Pettigrew, Padfoot is Sirius, and Prongs is my father, James."

"Why is Pettigrew there? Isn't he evil? And in Azkaban?" asked Neville.

Harry frowned. "I would take his name off, but I don't know how. I think that it is permanent."

"What's with the code names, anyway? Only people that knew the password could access the map. What's with the additional security measures?" asked Hermione.

"It was their nicknames while they were still at Hogwarts. Lupin is a werewolf, and everyone else was an Animagus."

Hermione jerked her head up to look at Harry. "Your father was unregistered, then? Only Sirius and Pettigrew are in the ministry records."

"Yes, but don't go telling people. The Ministry might try to sue him." said Harry, leaving Hermione confused for a second.

"Your father was friends with a _werewolf_?" asked Neville. "I mean… there's nothing wrong with that… but that couldn't possibly be safe."

"As long as my father and his friends were in their Animagus form, Lupin wouldn't have the urge to bite them. Werewolves only target other humans." explained Harry, putting an emphasis on the word 'other'. He knew that many people considered werewolves a different species, and a bloodthirsty one at that.

"Look at the time!" exclaimed Hermione. "It's twenty-five minutes until midnight!"

The trio abandoned their conversation, and gathered together. Harry pulled the Cloak of Invisibility over them, and they rushed out of the common room and down a flight of stairs. They had to take two detours, the first because a staircase they were about to descend suddenly moved, almost causing them to plummet to the floor below, and because of Peeves, who was playing tennis.

The friends arrived at Hagrid's cabin late. They picked up the heavy crate containing Norbert, and big Hagrid a hasty goodbye before rushing off toward the castle again. They had only ten minutes to get to the top of the Astronomy Tower, at least a hundred feet above them.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" sobbed Hagrid as they left. "Mummy will never forget you!"

After rushing back into the castle, the trio struggled to climb the stairs to reach the Astronomy Tower. By the third landing, they were already panting. Harry tried to think of an alternative.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" he said, aiming his wand at Norbert's crate. The object in question rose shakily into the air, causing Norbert to screech in annoyance.

"_Silencio_!" cried Harry, causing the dragon to become mute. The friends looked around, wondering if anyone had heard the screech. Luckily, no one had. The corridors were deserted, with Filch three floors above them, and Peeves two below. Mrs. Norris was with Filch.

As the friends reached the corridor beneath the Astronomy Tower, they stopped, shrinking into the shadows when they saw the shadows of two figures, illuminated by the torchlight. Professor McGonagall came into view, wearing a tartan bathrobe and hair net, dragging Malfoy by his ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how _dare_ you-"

"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming- he's got a dragon!" protested Malfoy.

"What utter rubbish!" commented McGonagall. "How dare you tell such lies! Come on- I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

Harry tried not to grin as Malfoy was dragged down the corridor, occasionally yelping in pain. When McGonagall rounded the corner, the trio started up the steep spiral staircase. At the top, Hermione did a little jig.

"Malfoy's got detention!" she exclaimed. "I could sing!"

"While that would be nice to hear, now is not the time," said Harry.

Chuckling about Malfoy, they waited, Norbert thrashing around in his cage. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness. Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. The showed Harry and Hermione the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it. The friends shook hands with each other, and thanked them very much.

"Don't get caught on your way back," advised one of Charlie's friends.

Harry realized that he had forgotten his Cloak of Invisibility. He waved them off, and then picked up the cloak to hide everyone once again. It was lucky that they did so, because Filch was at the bottom of the staircase, staring up. He must've heard voices coming from the Astronomy Tower.

Harry and his friends carefully inched around the caretaker, trying not to make any noise. Thankfully, they managed to bypass Filch, and they hurried back to the Gryffindor common room, all happier than they had been, moments before. Norbert was safe, and Malfoy had gotten in trouble. _Mission accomplished_.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for the support on this series! Eleven thousand people have read this book, and I am glad to see that many people enjoy my writing. I spent many hours of non-stop typing to complete this chapter, and I know that my fans are looking forward to more. Stay tuned!


	10. Chapter 10: The Villain Revealed

**Chapter 10: The Villain Revealed**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to Harry Potter, nor do I put any claim whatsoever onto Harry Potter. I am making absolutely no profit on this, and I am not making this to gain anything whatsoever.

**A/N:** I have diverged from the canon in this chapter. I felt that the defenses surrounding the Philosopher's Stone were too easy, so I made some changes to make it harder.

* * *

The first-year exams had come around in June, and everyone had been issued special, new quills for the exams, bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell. Harry was starting to get tired of sitting at a desk for hours, scribbling answers onto a piece of parchment. Harry had caught at least half a dozen people dozing at their desks during the History of Magic exam, while Bathilda Bagshot was absentmindedly stared at the clock.

Harry was thankful for practical exams, like when Professor Flitwick told them to make a pineapple tap-dance, or when Professor McGonagall made then turn a mouse into a snuff box. He had aced both of those tests, but almost messed up in Herbology, where he was supposed to plant a dozen baby Bouncing Bulbs. One of them managed to leap out of his hands, and it was only his quick reflexes that saved himself from being socked in the right eye. Harry had managed to grab the Bouncing Bulb before it hopped away, but he suspected that Professor Sprout would take off some points.

Snape sneered at the students as they tried to brew Forgetfulness Potions, and Harry suspected that Snape was trying to find a way to fail every single student in his classroom, Harry most of all. However, Harry managed to remember the steps to making one, and created the potion, albeit a shade lighter than he would have liked. Snape eyed it with distaste.

The Defense Against the Darks Arts exam was simple, as the students had to cast a Smokescreen spell. Harry created a thick wall of smoke, which completely obscured him from view. He was the only one, aside from Hermione, who made full marks.

After all the testing was completed, everyone had half an hour of free time before they had to go to dinner. Harry and his friends strolled down to the lake and flopped under a tree, watching the Weasley twins, along with Lee Jordan, tickle the tentacles of the giant squid. After enjoying the scenery, and having sufficiently calmed their nerves, the trio headed to the Great Hall to eat.

As Harry sat down and helped himself to the food, he noticed that Dumbledore wasn't sitting at his usual seat, up at the teacher's table. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. When everyone had sat down, McGonagall stood up, clearing her throat.

"Dumbledore has received an urgent letter from the Ministry of Magic, and has subsequently left Hogwarts," she announced. "He will not be back until tomorrow. As such, I will be serving as temporary headmistress, in case any problems arise."

She looked around, as if daring something to happen. "That is all for now."

As she said that, the golden platters filled with food. Harry felt a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, something important, but just couldn't remember what it was. As he was pouring gravy on his mashed potatoes, he gasped in alarm, accidentally spilling some gravy onto the table. He quickly wiped up the mess with a napkin, to the confused stares of his fellow Gryffindors.

"Are you alright?" asked Neville.

"McGonagall said that Dymbledore wouldn't be back until tomorrow, right?" Harry checked. When Neville nodded, he continued. "And wasn't the only thing stopping the Philosopher's Stone from being stolen was the fact that Dumbledore was guarding it?"

Hermione gasped. "You think…"

"Someone might try to steal the stone tonight," said Harry. "We need to get to the third floor."

"Not now!" said Hermione, tugging him back into his seat. "All the professors are still eating. There's no way for any of them to grab the Philosopher's Stone now."

"And if they had an accomplice?" retorted Harry. "Like Filch?"

"Only Dumbledore can invite visitors to Hogwarts, and I would trust him not to bring some random person to a school full of _children_." replied Hermione. "Besides, do you really think that Filch could outsmart Dumbledore's defenses? Wait until after dinner, and then check your map."

"Fine," relented Harry, who was eyeing the teacher's table suspiciously. He reluctantly ate his dinner. It didn't taste as good as before.

Harry, Hermione, and Neville left the Great Hall before anyone else, and headed to Gryffindor Tower. They spent the rest of the day doing their homework- or in Harry and Neville's case, pretending to do their homework- and inconspicuously checking the Marauder's Map, which they had under the seat cushion of the one of the chairs. Surprisingly, they had not seen anyone head to the third floor corridor.

"Could they have an Invisibility Cloak?" whispered Neville. "I would have thought that _somebody _would be up to something by now."

"As far as I know, everything shows up on the Marauder's Map," replied Harry, also quiet. "Sirius and Lupin might be exceptions, but they couldn't possibly be the culprit."

"As you put it, the 'culprit' would probably wait until everyone is asleep before trying to do anything," said Hermione. "It would be suspicious if the Philosopher's Stone went missing, and one of the professors was mysteriously absent from Hogwarts. Assuming that the 'culprit' is actually one of the professors."

"Of course it's one of the Hogwarts professors," Harry told her. "Who else would it be?"

"Well…" Hermione didn't have a retort. "I guess you're right. You should probably start doing your homework, too. If this is a false alarm, you wouldn't want your grades to plummet."

"What? Oh, fine," said Harry. He picked up his quill, dipped in ink, and proceeded to write his Potions essay.

* * *

Neville was the first one to spot the professor heading to the third floor corridor. Harry looked up from his half-finished essay. Hermione looked up from one of her books about wards. She had been hoping to find some useful information against the protections surrounding the Philosopher's Stone.

"So it _was _Quirrell," muttered Hermione.

"I could have sworn that it was Snape," said Harry.

"The Marauder's Map doesn't lie," Hermione pointed out.

"I never said that," replied Harry.

"But it's true," persisted Hermione.

"Guys, this isn't a game," said Neville. "Quirrell is trying to steal one of the most powerful artifacts in wizarding history!"

"It's not powerful, it's just valuable," said Hermione. "Infinite gold can't beat the Killing Curse."

"Now is not the time, Hermione," said Neville.

"Okay, fine," huffed Hermione. "I was just playing around."

"Okay, seriously, what do we do?" asked Neville.

Harry looked around. "There's still half a dozen people in the common room. We can't leave until they go to bed."

"But Quirrell could be taking the Philosopher's Stone right now!" exclaimed Neville.

"In just one hour?" asked Hermione. "Harry's right. We have to wait it out."

"Is there a sleeping spell you can use?" asked Neville.

"The only one I can think of is an incantation that puts people into a bewitched sleep," said Hermione. "But those kinds of charms are really advanced. I doubt I could pull it off, even three years from now."

"So we wait," said Harry.

The three friends tried going back to work, but ended up just sitting next to each other, silent. Their nerves were too high to do anything productive. Half an hour later, Lee Jordan left the common room. He was the last to go. The trio were alone.

Harry retrieved the Cloak of Invisibility, careful not to wake any of his roommates up. Creeping back down the stairs, his friends huddled up next to him. They checked the Marauder's Map once more, then covered themselves in the Cloak of Invisibility. The trio left Gryffindor Tower and headed down the stairs to the third floor.

Harry resisted the urge to kick Mrs. Norris, who they found at the foot of the staircase. They spent a couple of minutes taking a detour around Peeves, who was hovering halfway up a staircase leading to the third floor. The Marauder's Map sure came in handy.

When they finally arrived at the third-floor corridor, they weren't surprised to find the door blasted open. Apparently Quirrell didn't use doorknobs very often. The friends cautiously made their way inside. Fluffy was sniffing the air, trying to identify where the three mysterious creatures that had entered its home were. A small, hand-held harp lay at its feet.

"A harp?" whispered Neville. "Why is there a harp?"

"Didn't Hagrid talk about music helping the dog sleep?" asked Harry.

"You're right! But we didn't bring any instruments…" said Hermione.

"Can any of you sing?" asked Harry. The three friends looked at one another.

"No," said Neville.

"I've never tried…" admitted Hermione.

"Well, I can't," Harry told her. "It's up to you."

"Can we just grab the harp?" asked Neville.

"How are we going to get close to the dog? Unless we can somehow bring the harp to us…" Harry trailed off. He pulled out his wand, pointing it at the harp. "_Wingardium Leviosa_."

The harp lifted into the air. Fluffy didn't seem to notice. He was still wildly sniffing the air. The harp slowly began to move towards Harry. It wobbled slightly, but it eventually completed its journey. Harry picked up the harp, and began to randomly pluck the strings. The resulting sound did not sound like any sort of music, but the three-headed dog immediately began to show signs of drowsiness.

After half a minute, Fluffy finally succumbed to the music, and fell sound asleep. Pulling open the trapdoor, Harry, Hermione, and Neville peered down into the darkness. Harry handed the harp to Hermione. The monstrous dog began to stir, but quickly fell asleep again when Hermione started to strum the harp.

Harry fished a quill out of his pocket, and used his wand to set it on fire. Dropping it down into the darkness, the quill illuminated a tangle of vines at the bottom of the drop. The vines recoiled from the flames.

Hermione gasped. "That's Devil's Snare!"

"That's useful," said Harry sarcastically. "Now I know its name. What does it do, and how do we get past it?"

"Well, Devil's Snare is a plant that strangles or suffocates anything that comes in contact with it," explained Hermione. "As you saw, it doesn't like light, or fire."

"You know, I expected this to be much harder," commented Neville. "We can just cast a simple fire spell."

"The plant will smother the fire. Bluebell flames don't need fuel or oxygen to survive, but they don't cause any damage. Still, the Devil's Snare might be scared of it." thought Hermione.

"Can't hurt to give it a try," said Neville. "Here, give me the harp."

Hermione passed the harp to Neville, and pulled out her wand, preparing to cast a spell. Neville, who had never held an instrument in his life, tried to figure out how to hold the harp. Forgetting to pluck the strings, Fluffy slowly opened one eye. Seeing three figures standing next to his precious trapdoor, he released a growl.

Everybody jumped from fright. Harry accidentally ran into Neville, who lost his grip on the harp, which went skidding across the floor. One of the dog's heads snatched up the harp, crushing it into a cloud of splinters.

Harry looked around frantically. The exit was too far away, and he did not like his chances against the giant dog. He looked down at the trapdoor, then at the dog. When the dog snapped its jaws menacingly, Harry made up his mind. Grabbing his friends, he jumped down, into the darkness.

The Devil's Snare was surprisingly soft. Maybe it had a Cushioning Charm on it? Whatever the case, the vines were currently crawling up Harry's legs. He kicked out, scrambling for a handhold on the wall. He climbed up a few feet to safety. Hermione had tucked herself away in a nook, but Neville was stuck in the Devil's Snare.

"_Incendio_!" said Harry, pointing at the Devil's Snare. The plant recoiled from the fire, but with no fuel to burn, the fire quickly dissipated. Neville was still stuck. Hermione was frozen in fear, just like the time that they had fought the troll.

"Hermione, do something!" shouted Harry. His voice snapped Hermione out of her fear. Leveling her wand at the vines, she muttered an incantation. Blue flames erupted from the end of her wand, engulfing the Devil's Snare. The fire gave off a tingly sensation, but Harry felt no pain. The vines quickly retreated, dropping Neville onto a sort of slide, which slid him out of sight.

"You all right?" called Harry.

"Barely," shouted Neville, his voice distant. "You might want to come down here."

Harry and Hermione jumped down onto the slide. They were deposited into what looked like a jungle. There were tall trees covering most of the room from sight, and vines hung from the branches. There was suspiciously juicy, ripe fruit scattered about on the trees. There was a path that snaked through the jungle. The end wasn't in sight.

"Don't touch anything," advised Hermione.

"Yeah, I know that," said Neville. "Do you think Professor Sprouts did this?"

"Probably," said Harry. "I'm guessing we need to get through this jungle."

"Should we stay on the path?" asked Hermione. "It could be a trap."

"It looks safer than everything else," Harry pointed out. "It seems to be the intended route to take."

"But the professors wouldn't want the Philosopher's Stone to be taken. So why would they put a path here?" asked Neville.

"They have to be able to retrieve it somehow," said Harry, starting to walk down the path. "As long as we don't touch anything, and don't stray off of the path, we should be fine."

"You better not jinx us," muttered Hermione, starting off after him. After a moment's hesitation, Neville followed.

Of course, after traversing along the path for only a few seconds, the plants started to attack them. The trees formed an "X", blocking their path ahead. Turning around, the trees behind them had done the same. When the low-hanging vines started to thrash about, the trio fled the trail. Giant Cobra Lilies and Fanged Geraniums snapped at Harry's heels as he ran.

"This is all your fault!" cried Hermione, who was keeping pace with him. Neville was trailing slightly behind, but the life-or-death situation seemed to give him some extra motivation.

"My fault?!" shouted Harry. "Blame Professor Sprouts!"

As Harry ran past a bush, he tripped. Landing hard on the ground, he turned around to discover that a vine from the bush had wrapped around his ankle. The plant was actually a Venomous Tentacula, and by the looks of things, it could expel venom, had deadly thorns on its branches, and contained a lethal venomous bite.

"_Diffindo_!" cried Harry. The vine wrapped around his ankle severed, setting him free. His friends, who had just ran back, helped him up. They stumbled away as quickly as they could. The Venomous Tentacula shot a spiky ball from its mouth. Luckily, its aim wasn't very good.

"Those Venomous Tentaculas can kill!" warned Harry. He winced as a Snapping Geranium bit his shin. A second later, he leapt away from a shower of venom, which burned holes in his robes.

"_Incendio_!" cried Hermione, pointing at a curtain of vines blocking their path. The spell had no effect. Evidently, someone had placed anti-fire wards in the room.

"Take the path to the right!" shouted Harry. There was a small gap between two trees, enough for a teenager to squeeze through. The three friends scrambled through, crawling on their hands and knees. Harry and Hermione got up as quickly as they could, and helped pull Neville through. They kept on running, until they managed to make it to a door at the other end of the room. With no hesitation, they pulled it open, rushing inside. They slammed the door shut, right before one of the bouncing, spiky balls had a chance to hit them in the face. Panting, Neville collapsed against the door. Harry and Hermione were in no better shape.

Looking around, Harry noticed that the room they were in was also very spacious, with pillars unevenly spaced around the room. Harry wondered if there was anything hidden behind them. Hearing an odd noise, Harry looked up to see birds. Maybe they were man-eating birds. After a closer look, he realized that they were winged keys. The door on the opposite side of them was locked. There was a broomstick on the floor.

"There are hundreds of them," said Neville in wonder. "Are you supposed to find one specific key?"

"It's like finding a needle in a haystack," agreed Harry. Walking over to the locked door, he inspected the keyhole. "We need to find a big, old-fashioned key. Judging from the lock, it should be silver."

"There's only one broomstick here," said Hermione. "It's all up to you."

"I don't suppose the Summoning Charm would work," sighed Harry. "Give me some time to rest."

Harry took a couple of minutes to catch his breath, then mounted the broomstick. It responded to his movements much worse than his Nimbus 2000, sometimes having a delay. Harry knew that if he was flying towards an object, he might not have time to avoid it. Looking around at the pillars, he knew that crashing would be likely.

Kicking off from the ground, he sped off towards the keys. Like the same ends of a magnet, they pulled away from him. Harry chased after them, scanning the crowd for the right key. The flock of keys was so thick that he didn't see the pillar in front of him until the keys veered out of the way. It was only his Quidditch reflexes that allowed him to avoid hitting the pillar straight-on. He had still managed to clip the side of it, though, and had a nasty bruise to show for it.

Harry regained his bearings, and after a minute of scanning the keys, he noticed a large silver key that had a bent wing, as if it had already been caught before. He chased after the blue-winged suspect. He kept his eyes directed on that one key, but still managed to avoid half a dozen pillars. After chasing the key for a few seconds, he realized that it moved too fast for him to catch. He had to outsmart the key instead.

The next time Harry chased after the key, he prematurely made a turn around a pillar, cutting off the key. His fingertips brushed the bent wing, but it had avoided him. The next time he tried the same maneuver, the flock went the other direction than him, causing him to have to double back.

The third time he tried the trick, he managed to intercept the key as it sharply turned a corner. The second he grasped the key, its brethren converged on him. Harry found out the hard way that key bits were just as painful as bird beaks. He managed to evade the aggressive flock by making a complex maneuver through five separate pillars and jumping from his broomstick. Harry rolled on the ground, then sprang up to stuff the key in the keyhole, despite its struggling. Turning the lock Harry, Hermione, and Neville entered the third room.

The trio realized that they were standing on a giant chessboard. Around them were the black chess pieces, all in position, and guarding the door were white chess pieces. The pawns were over five feet tall, each one of them with a halberd. The knights were atop their horses, wielding long spears. The bishops were elephants, and the rooks were chariots. The queen was as tall as Hagrid, and wielded a deadly mace. The king held a broadsword in his right hand, and a giant shield in his left.

"Please don't tell me they move…" whimpered Neville.

"Get under the Invisibility Cloak," whispered Harry. "We'll try to sneak across."

As the trio neared the door, the pawns crossed their halberds, blocking the path forward. Apparently the chess pieces had a good sense of hearing, even if they didn't appear to have physical ears.

"I guess we have to play," commented Harry.

"Brilliant observation, Harry," said Neville. "Who's the best chess player here?"

"I vote for you, Hermione," decided Harry. "You're the smartest student in our year."

"But I've only been playing chess for a couple of months…" said Hermione.

"But you've already beat us multiple times," pointed out Neville.

"Okay, I guess," Hermione conceded. "Do we sit on the sidelines… or…"

The white king gestured at the board, then at the black pieces.

"We play as the pieces?" asked Harry.

The white king nodded his head.

"Okay, then," said Hermione. "Harry, you take the place of the black king. Neville, you take the place of the queen. I'll become one of the knights."

"A knight?" asked Harry. "Those pieces always get captured! Can't you choose something else?"

"How else am I going to be able to see the whole board without moving around?" countered Hermione. "I can't exactly climb onto an elephant that easily."

Harry shut up, and took the place of the king, which had moved off of the board. Neville took the spot of the queen, and Hermione's knight left his horse for her. Once everybody was in position, the game began. It started out simply enough, until the first piece was captured. The white queen moved to a square occupied by the other black knight, then swung her mace, smashing the massive figuring into a thousand pieces of ceramic.

* * *

The fireplace in the headmaster's office crackled merrily, before suddenly turning emerald-green. A tall, regal figure stepped out of the fire, dusting off his robes. Dumbledore looked around for Fawkes, but his pet phoenix was not here. The headmaster headed down the steps and out of his office, a certain sense of urgency noticeable in his walk. The wards he had placed around the Mirror of Erised had gone off. Voldemort had took the bait.

Heading to the third floor corridor, Dumbledore walked through the blasted doorway, unfazed. A quick wave of his wand, and Fluffy was down for the count. Dumbledore jumped into the trapdoor at the dog's feet with the grace of a man in his early thirties. A Cushioning Charm made the cold stone floor seem like a soft pillow.

Dumbledore started to undo the protective enchantments around the deadly jungle. The spell, which was only known by him and Pomona Sprouts, was particularly wordy and hard to pronounce, to ensure that no trespasser would figure out how to nullify the barriers protecting the Philosopher's stone. Dumbledore concentrated on the spell as if it was the only thing in existence. One mispronunciation, and he would have to start the ten-minute spell all over again.

* * *

The white king's crown landed at Harry's feet. Miraculously, Hermione had managed to beat the magical chess set without losing Harry, Neville, or herself. She had needed help from Neville and Harry, almost blundering into half a dozen clever traps laid out to trick her. Thankfully, three minds were better than one sentient chess piece.

As the trio entered the next room, their nostrils were assaulted by something that smelled a hundred times worse than a sewer. Eyes watering, robes covering their noses, the friends didn't notice the mountain troll until it loomed out of the darkness, directly in front of them. It was at least three feet taller than the one they had killed in the bathroom. It hefted a troll-sized baseball bat, which was probably the trunk of an entire tree. The weapon came hurtling down with a lethal force, but Harry, Hermione, and Neville had already scattered.

"_Diffindo_!" shouted Harry, pointing his wand at the troll. He twisted out of the way a second later, when his spell came shooting back at him. The Severing Charm cut calf, and the unexpected pain caused Harry to drop to the ground. Apparently, this troll had much more magically-resistant skin than the other one Harry had faced.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" said Hermione. If she had hoped that non-lethal spells would be able to effect a mountain troll, she was mistaken. Her spell bounced off the troll and struck the ceiling.

The troll, who was deciding who to attack first, decided to advance toward the nearest noise, that being Hermione. The girl in question moved away until her back hit the wall. Reminiscent of the bathroom troll incident, Hermione froze up in pure terror. The troll raised his club.

"_TERGEO_!" screamed Neville, pointing his wand at the mountain troll. As the spell made contact with the vile beast, it froze, club poised in midair, preparing to strike. The troll began to slowly shrivel up, and in a matter of seconds, a very stinky mummy had toppled over onto the floor, a club in its upraised hand. Neville had drained every ounce of liquid from the creature.

Harry and Hermione stared at him in shock.

"Neville," said Harry. "That was bloody brilliant!"

"You saved my life," said Hermione. "Again."

"Isn't that what friends are for?" asked Neville, a little embarrassed from the praise. "We've saved each other throughout this adventure. Besides, shouldn't we go find Quirrell?"

"Still, thank you," said Hermione. "But you're right. We have no time to lose."

"_Vulnera Sanentur_," muttered Harry, pointing his wand at the cut he had received. Repeating it twice more, he stood up. "I'll get Madam Pomfrey to apply some dittany after we're done here."

"How are you going to explain the cut to Pomfrey?" asked Neville. "I know where Professor Sprouts grows her dittany."

"That works, too," agreed Harry. "Let's head to the next room."

The next room contained a table with several oddly-shaped potions atop it. A handwritten scroll lay beside the vials. As they walked through the entryway, a blazing black fire ignited before them, blocking the way forward. As expected, another fire had blocked their way back, though this one was purple. Having been through more than one life-or-death experiences in a short period of time, Hermione picked up the scroll to read it, unfazed. Harry looked over her shoulder. It was a riddle, talking about nettle wine and death. Cheery stuff.

"Brilliant," muttered Hermione. "This is a logical puzzle. A simple answer with a simple solution. It's not designed to harm someone, even though some of the potions here are deadly. It's meant to stall a person, to give enough time for the trespasser to be discovered and arrested. Most wizard's don't have an ounce of logic."

"But you can solve it, right?" asked Neville.

"Of course I can," replied Hermione. "Just give me a minute to think."

She inspected each vial carefully, then muttered to herself, pacing back and forth, occasionally glancing at the riddle lying on the table. In just under a minute, she clapped her hands, triumphant.

"Got it," she announced. "The smallest bottle will take us through the black fire. The round one on the far right will take us back."

Harry peered at the bottle. "That hardly looks like one swallow. How much do you think we'll need to not get harmed by the fire?"

"I would say that these potions were carefully measured," said Hermione. "The bottle looks like it's enough for two people, but it's only half full. Quirrell must have already drank from it."

"Should I go?" asked Harry. "Or do you guys think you could take on Quirrell?"

"You're the best dueler out of the three of us," pointed out Neville. "Quirrell is probably a dark wizard. We wouldn't have a chance."

"Okay, then," said Harry. "Neville, can you go back and get some help? Hermione, you stay here, in case Quirrell tries to escape."

"Sounds like a plan," Neville, drinking from the round bottle. He shuddered. "Feels like I swallowed an ice cube. Good luck, Harry. You too, Hermione."

Neville hesitantly waved his hand through the fire. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the purple flames, disappearing out of view. When he was gone, Harry hesitantly picked up his out the cork, he sniffed the liquid. It didn't smell like anything Harry could recognize. Before he changed his mind, he downed the bottle. He also shuddered, a chill running through his entire body.

"Well, I guess this is it," Harry told Hermione.

Hermione's lips trembled, and she threw her arms around Harry. At first, Harry was taken aback, but hugged Hermione as well.

"Just… be safe, Harry," whispered Hermione.

"I will," promised Harry.

Hermione let go of Harry, who walked through the fire to confront Quirrell. When he came out the other side, he saw the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor standing in front of a mirror, muttering to himself. Quirrell stopped when he saw Harry in the reflection of the mirror. Smiling, he turned around.

"I was wondering if you would come, Potter," said the professor. His stuttering was gone. Like Hermione had said, it was all an act. Quirrell snapped his fingers, and ropes sprang out of midair to restrain Harry. So much for fighting Quirrell. Harry hadn't even gotten his wand out, as he had to keep it protected from the fire. "You're too nosy to live, Potter. I've been trying to find a way to kill you in secret, ever since that Quidditch match, but Hogwarts was too well protected. But once I've acquired the Stone, I'll just leave you here to die. That way, I won't set off any of those pesky wards around the school. But I don't have time for idle chit-chat. I have to solve this last obstacle. _Silencio_."

As Quirrell muttered to himself, Harry slowly inched his hand toward his wand, which was hidden out of sight in hidden holster under his sleeve. When he finally touched it, his wand still wasn't of much use to him, given the fact that his arms were pinned to the side, along with being temporarily mute. If only he could pull of a nonverbal spell… but that was taught in sixth year, not first. But it was his only chance.

A nonverbal spell for someone of Harry's skill level would require extreme concentration and mental discipline. Being trained in Occlumency, Harry already fulfilled the latter. The hard part would be concentrating. Quirrell's monotonous muttering certainly did not help, nor did the unsettling feeling of being watched.

Harry tried to cast the General Counter-Spell, which would allow him to speak. He concentrated his mind on the spell, but nothing happened. Trying yet again, Harry put all his effort into the spell. He could see the tip of his wand glow faintly red, but nothing happened. On the third try, with Harry delving deep into his mind, conjuring up every piece of motivation he could remember, he managed to cast his spell, albeit rather weak. He tried humming softly to himself, and to his relief, he could hear his own voice.

Harry considered how to get rid of the ropes around him. The Severing Charm would only free his legs, which would still leave Harry's arms at his side. The Fire-Making Spell would certainly burn the ropes off, but would burn Harry along with it. However, if he could do a sixth-year strategy, then he might be able to cast a fifth year spell, the Reductor Curse.

"_Reducto_," whispered Harry, turning his head and talking out of the corner of his mouth.

Surprisingly, the rope surrounding Harry turned to ash. Quirrell didn't realize anything had happened until a bright light caught his eye in the mirror's reflection. Quick as a squirrel, he spun around, bringing his wand out in one smooth motion. He deflected the curse with practiced ease. He cast a curse at Harry, but the boy was already in a different location before the curse had a chance to land.

"_Protego Maxima_," spat Quirrell, creating a barrier between him and Harry. "You are becoming a nuisance, Potter. I would kill you, right here, right now, but my Master wants to meet you face-to-face."

"Master?" asked Harry. "Who are you working for?"

"Let me show you," said Quirrell ominously. The dark wizard turned around, unwrapping his turban. On the back of Quirrell's head was a hideous face, chalk white, with glaring red eyes and slitted nostrils, like a snake.

"Voldemort," said Harry, shock on his face. "You should be dead! I killed you, twelve years ago, in Godric's Hollow. How did you live?"

Voldemort laughed. "You… you were just a child… when you supposedly killed the Dark Lord. Tell me, could you, or anyone else, have possibly confirm that? Everything… was an assumption. A wrong one, at that."

"But… you were hit with your own Killing Curse," Harry told him. "It's not possible to survive that. It's not!"

"You think a simple spell would stop me? The greatest wizard of all time?" asked Voldemort. "You are such a naive little boy. Don't be a fool. I am well and most certainly alive… and I hold your life in my hands. Join me, or die… just like your foolish parents…"

"Never," spat Harry, readying his wand. "Do your worst."

"Quirrell, you know what to do," whispered Voldemort.

Quirrell turned around, his own wand raised. "_Crucio_!"

Harry ducked one of the Unforgiveable Curses. "_Expelliarmus_!"

His spell was absorbed into Quirrell's magical shield. Harry couldn't attack Quirrell, but Quirrell certainly could.

"_Confringo_!" cried Quirrell, causing Harry to leap away from the resulting explosion, hair slightly singed. Voldemort cackled all the while, enjoying the chaos. "_Reducto_! _Sectumsempra_! _Expulso_!"

The last spell landed just three feet away from Harry, and the blast carried him into the far wall, causing him to lose his grip on his wand, which clattered onto the stone floor ten feet away.

"Last chance to surrender, Potter," said Voldemort.

"Never," Harry replied. "I'd rather go to hell for eternity."

"If that is how you want it, then I'll gladly oblige," snarled Voldemort. "Quirrell, kill the boy."

Just then, Harry's saving grace arrived. It arrived in the form of the headmaster. Dumbledore waved his wand in intricate motions, obliterating Quirrell's defenses, which now seemed as feeble as a piece of cardboard. Quirrell, who was nowhere near Dumbledore's power level, fell back. Harry grabbed his wand while the two wizards were dueling it out.

Dumbledore had the upper hand, and after a rather nasty combination of hexes and curses, Quirrell was thrown back a good ten feet by the Disarming Charm. Knowing he had lost, Quirrell nimbly grabbed a flask from inside his robe, and downed it before Dumbledore could react.

"That was a Death-Cap Draught," laughed Quirrell, already beginning to cough viciously. "I'll be dead within a minute. You'll be getting no answers from me."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, staring at Quirrell intensely. He must've been doing Legilimency, but was not succeeding.

"You may have won this time," snarled Voldemort. "But this isn't over. I'll be back, stronger than ever!"

Harry thought that Voldemort's promise sounded very cliche, like it belonged in a blockbuster. So was Voldemort's face, which was peeling off the back of Quirrell's head. Dumbledore started casting spells at the incorporeal thing, but it seemed to be intangible. Before Harry could blink, it had flown away. Quirrell was slumped on the floor, already dead.

"Come on, now," said Dumbledore calmly. "We need to get you to the hospital wing."

* * *

**A/N: **I can't believe this took four weeks to make. I must have lost track of time. I'll try to post the next few chapters quicker. No promises, though.


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